Time Heals
by deepfriedcake
Summary: Luke's worst nightmare happened and he and Lorelai have spent more than a decade apart. Has enough time passed to finally allow their hearts to heal?
1. Thirteen Years

**Author's Notes:** Let me tell you a story. No, not this story. A story about this story.

I wrote stories about Lorelai and Luke and Stars Hollow for a long time before I started sharing them. There are a bunch of them tucked safely away where they'll never be seen, collecting cyberdust. Some of them are hidden because I've plundered certain lines or ideas and re-used them in stories you've read. Some of them weren't too original to start with. And then there are a couple of stories, (like this one), which I kept coming back to peruse every couple of months because there are some elements within them that I really liked and couldn't forget.

Usually when I come up with a story I see the whole thing. It gets some tweaking, of course, along the way, but usually I already know where it's going before I start it. I thought I knew the ending to this one, but once I got there, I didn't like it. It didn't seem true. Months passed, and another ending suggested itself. I started writing that one, but again, it just didn't fit. Plus, it was starting to veer too close to something else I want to explore some day. So again, this story got shelved ― but not forgotten.

Then one day, not long ago, I heard Luke say one word. Things suddenly clicked and I 'saw' the ending. With the ending in place, I've decided it's time to set this one free.

One last thing to keep in mind: Please remember how much I love Luke and Lorelai together. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm physically incapable of writing anything that keeps them apart. So, we're good? We understand each other? Read on then, please. I'll be anxious to hear what you all think of this one!

* * *

><p><strong>Thirteen Years<strong>

A bookstore. _Of course_ it was a bookstore.

Luke shook his head at his own naïveté. When April mentioned she needed to make one more stop before they headed back to her new apartment, he should have instinctively known that it was going to involve some sort of product made up of bound paper and ink. Well, at least he was no longer that clueless new father he used to be, the one who once let her take up residency at a Barnes and Noble in Hartford for over five hours because he was fearful that if he made her cut her browsing time short she would no longer like him. Now she knew the rules and he had no trouble enforcing them. She knew he would only put up with an hour, an hour and a half tops, before he would threaten to leave without her. Two hours was his absolute limit.

Yeah, he thought scornfully. Good thing you're not a pushover anymore.

Sighing, he unzipped the soft, caramel-colored leather jacket April had given him for his last birthday. He scanned the massive space to get his bearings, running the fingers of his right hand through his neatly cropped beard as he did so. Too late he realized what he was doing and jerked his fingers away, tucking them inside his jacket pocket. Now that he no longer had a baseball cap to settle against his head he found that touching his beard had become his new nervous habit.

He located a map of the store quickly. As usual, the 'how-to' section was relegated as far away from the main area as possible. Luke figured that as long as he was here, he'd go look through the woodworking books and see if he could find any new designs. He could look through the antiques section too, because sometimes those books yielded some excellent ideas. If April was still missing by then, he'd go browse through the magazines. Hopefully before he was left with nothing but the celebrity gossip rags April would reappear.

Luke started his trek towards the far reaches of the store, his route taking him past the café, and as usual, the strong aroma of coffee caused a stinging feeling across his chest. For not the first time he wished he could have picked up her coffee habit. Sitting at a little table, nursing a cup of coffee and people-watching would have been an acceptable alternative to mindlessly flipping through books, especially if there was someone to share the coffee with…

Stop, he told himself sternly. You're not going around that tree again. Think about something else.

Luke's methodical brain shifted to thinking about the shelves he was going to put up in April's tiny apartment instead, going over each step of their assembly, making sure he had everything he needed before starting the project.

He was skirting through the children's area when two boys, roughly around five or six years old, suddenly tumbled in front of him. The kids were whaling away at each other while their oblivious mother stood a few yards away, murmuring, "Oh, don't do that, boys," with her face stuck in a book. Luke thought about the Banyan boys for the first time in years and wondered which federal institution was currently housing them. In a few years, when these two turned out to be juvenile delinquents, this mother would wonder what went wrong, too.

"Wise up, lady," Luke muttered under his breath, as he bypassed the mayhem in front of him by turning down an aisle running through the kids' section.

He could see the humor section in front of him, which usually meant the how-to books were close by, when a peculiar feeling ran up his back and across his neck, causing him to stop abruptly and take a sharp breath.

You're crazy, he told himself. You just thought about her. That's all it is.

But still…What was the harm in just looking around a little? Luke had no possible reason to peruse the children's books at all, except to egg on that feeling he hadn't experienced in so many years. Because, after all, there was no way, _no way_…

He turned a corner into the area with those thick cardboard books intended for toddlers, and…There she was.

She was still gorgeous. He could see that, even from his distance at the end of the row and through the sudden tears that were trying to cloud his vision. She was stretching up to get a stuffed animal displayed on top of a shelf and the black slacks she had on were showcasing her still-incredible long legs. She had on a tightly fitted denim jacket that nipped in at her waist, with ruffles at the hem and cuffs. Her hair ― He sucked in a pained breath. She'd cut her hair! It was straight, and it curved in a few inches below her chin. Several silver streaks showed through the dark strands, but they looked so perfect that Luke wasn't sure that they weren't placed there deliberately, instead of being time's reminder of the dozen years they'd spent apart.

Luke had been steadily making his way down the aisle, not even realizing he was moving, unable to resist the pull of her. He was close enough now to see a few lines on her face, but overall, the years had been very kind.

He watched as Lorelai stooped down, holding out the stuffed monster to an exquisite little girl with dark curls and deep blue eyes, who gravely listened to whatever nonsense was spilling out of her mouth. Luke grinned, his heart beating so fast at hearing her voice again.

"Well, hello there, dearie!" Lorelai said in a shrill tone, voicing the chartreuse monster she was dancing up and down the little girl's arms. "Do you have bananas for me today? Me loooove bananas!"

"She looks just like you." Luke didn't know he was actually going to speak until the hoarse words were out of his mouth.

He could tell that Lorelai still got hit on a lot because he recognized the set of her mouth as she started to turn towards him, ready to tell him politely but firmly to get lost. Partway, though, he saw that she had identified his voice, and by the time her face had turned fully to see him, it was home to that smile that had always melted his heart. Her face lit up in joy.

Dropping the monster, she sprang to her feet with a little shriek and launched herself at him. He opened his arms and latched her to his chest, raining little kisses down on her hair, forehead, anything he could reach. She was saying something — of course she was talking — but he couldn't make any of it out, so tightly was he holding her.

They might have stayed like that until the store employees shooed them out into the night, except that sharp pains attacked Luke's shins and kneecaps.

"What the ―?" he sputtered, stepping back but still trying to hold onto Lorelai. "Hey!" he yelped.

"Oh, Lexie, no!" Lorelai quickly scooped up the little girl, who was doing her best bear attack imitation on Luke's legs. "It's OK, Doll. This isn't a stranger!"

The child had been saying something, over and over, and at first Luke thought she was speaking a foreign language — French? — but now he realized that the word might have indeed been 'stranger.'

"This is Luke," Lorelai told the little girl, her voice giving a warmth to his name that he had all but forgotten about. "This is really Luke. Mommy's friend, Luke. _My friend_, Luke."

The toddler looked from Lorelai to Luke. She studied him seriously for a moment before doing that lunging thing kids do at that age when they want another adult to take them. Luke remembered his niece at that age and instinctively held out his arms, nestling her against his chest as she settled against him.

"Luke," she said thoughtfully, (or something that could have been Luke), running her fingers against the soft leather of his jacket.

"Yes, Dollface, this is Luke," Lorelai confirmed, almost beside herself in happiness, bobbing up and down on her toes.

The child nodded, still not smiling, and poked him in the chest. "Cof-fee," she proclaimed.

Luke's mouth dropped open.

"Yes, yes, Angel Girl, Luke's coffee!" Lorelai clapped her hands in delight.

Her deep blue eyes, so much like Lorelai's, stared at him, and she said the one word that threatened to completely undo him.

"Pie."

"Lorelai, how…" Luke managed to get out of his strangled throat.

"Oh, she knows all about you, my friend!" Lorelai beamed at the little girl and kissed her tiny fingers quickly. "She's heard all of my Luke stories over and over! She knows all about painting the diner, except for the one special spot, and she knows about the night we broke the bells, and she knows about the sleigh ride, and the Dragonfly…" Oncoming tears suddenly pinched off her reminiscing, and she nodded enthusiastically, pretending that she was actually done talking.

Luke looked from Lorelai to the little charmer in his arms, not able to believe what he was seeing and hearing. "She looks just exactly how I always thought —" Like Lorelai a moment before, he had to break off the comment. One thing he'd learned about getting older: Emotions were a lot tougher to control.

Lorelai picked up his thought easily, and although the tears were still threatening her as well, she decided to go with what had always been her strong suit.

"Contrary to popular belief, Luke," she told him quietly, her eyes twinkling through the moisture in them, "I am not Wonder Woman! She's not mine!"

"She's not?" Luke again studied the mass of curls, the blue eyes.

"This is Lexie," Lorelai announced with a little flourish. "She's two and a half, and she's Rory's."

"Rory's." Luke could see it now, Rory's serious gaze, the calmness, the studious inspection of life.

"Tell Luke who I am," Lorelai said to Lexie, pointing to herself.

"Gammie," Lexie said promptly.

Luke quirked an eyebrow at that and Lorelai laughed. "Yeah, it's supposed to be 'Grammie' but we're having some trouble with 'r's. Thank goodness Rory decided not to name her after herself, or the poor kid could never do introductions!"

Lexie started to squirm, so Luke put her down, and they watched as she made her way over to the discarded monster Lorelai had flung to the floor in her haste to get to Luke.

Lorelai turned back to Luke, touching his arm lightly. "I can't believe this is real. I feel like a genie popped out of one of these books and granted me one last wish."

"Yeah, I kind of feel like I won the lottery, too," Luke admitted.

They grinned at each other like idiots until Lexie's cries of protest broke their attention. A little girl in pigtails had tried to take the monster away from her.

Lorelai went over to mediate the dispute, expertly distracting Lexie with a book with sparkling fairies on the cover, while handing the monster to the new little girl.

"So, what are you doing here, of all places? Don't you still live outside of Philadelphia?" she asked him.

Luke was surprised she knew that, but answered quickly. "Yeah, I'm still there, but April's just moved here. She's working on her doctorate, and she's going to be a teaching assistant at NYU. I helped her move in a few weeks ago, and she asked me to come back this weekend to help with some stuff."

"Wow. That's great. So all grown up, huh?"

"Yeah. So what about you? I never pictured you living in the city."

"I don't," Lorelai agreed, quickly. "I live about an hour from here, in a little suburb called Regency Hill. It's not Stars Hollow by any stretch, but the town council has some occasional hijinks and it's small enough that I can walk through the downtown area and actually know some of the people. So, it's not bad." She nodded, as though trying to convince herself of that. "And I like that I can get here quickly, like today, when Rory needs some help with the munchkin."

"Rory's in New York?"

"Yeah, they live about three blocks east of here." She suddenly switched topics. "Hey, do you have to go right away? Lexie's getting restless, and if you have time, we could go sit in the café and get her a snack. Give us time to catch up. If you want," she added quickly, afraid that she was presuming too much.

"I'd love that," Luke said sincerely, and then bit at his lip to keep from telling her everything else he'd love.

* * *

><p>They were getting settled at one of the small tables Luke had looked at so longingly just a short time ago. At Lorelai's direction, Luke had gotten a highchair for Lexie, and Lorelai was now securing her in the seat. She had chosen a "Gingerbread Story Snack" for Lexie, which consisted of a gingerbread boy and girl cookie, some small tubs of icing and decorations, and a placemat full of places for the characters to visit. Luke had some tea and Lorelai had coffee, but had resisted Luke's attempts to get her something sweet to go with it.<p>

"No," she told him regretfully. "The old metabolism's finally slowing down. I can't eat the way I used to."

"Never thought I'd hear that," Luke grinned. He leaned over and showed Lexie how to take the popsicle stick spreader and put some icing on the cookie, and how an M&M could be an eye. She beamed at him in admiration and then cautiously tried her own hand at decoration. Her tongue poked out of her mouth as she determinedly tried to mimic his efforts. He could tell now, more than ever, Rory's makeup in the little girl. Lorelai would have licked all of the icing out of the tub by now. The M&Ms would have had no chance to be eyes.

As he was straightening back up, Lorelai's hand came out and touched his beard. She gave a little gasp as she touched it. "Oh, soft!" she said, amazed. She continued to run her fingertips through it. "I guess I thought it would be prickly, like a porcupine. But this is…nice." She felt his jaw clenching under her hand, and the blush that spread over her cheeks let him know that she suddenly realized she'd been stroking his face. "So, what made you decide on the beard?" she asked, tucking her trouble-making hands under her thighs and staring down into her coffee cup.

"Well, you know I always hated shaving. Thought I'd finally give it up completely," he deadpanned, trying to get his heart rate regulated after feeling her fingers touching him. "This way I just have to trim it up every other week or so, and I'm done."

"It looks good on you," she said, still sounding somewhat shy.

"And what in the world made you decide to do this?" he questioned, reaching over to tug at her hair lightly. He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Not a fan, huh?" she grinned at him. "Typical guy. Always wanting the long locks."

"You look beautiful," he conceded, gruffly. "I just really liked your long curls."

"I know you did, Babe," Lorelai said gently, not even aware that she'd unconsciously used one of her old endearments. "But it was time to try something new." She tucked her hair behind her ear in that familiar gesture, but what he saw when she did it made him lean forward in his seat once again.

"I can't believe this," he murmured, fingering the earring dangling from her ear. "I can't believe you wore these today."

"Yeah. What a coincidence, huh?" Lorelai looked uneasily away from him, nervously tapping her foot under the table.

"I'll say!" Luke brought his hand down over hers. Lorelai's gaze came back to him and they shared a smile for a few moments. He remembered when Liz gave the earrings to him that day, telling him to give them to Lorelai ― or Nicole.

Like there was ever a choice, he thought ruefully.

"So," he began, after a pause, "Rory's married?"

"Yeah, she's been married about five years now. Jeff is a great guy."

"You like him?" Luke asked with raised eyebrows.

"Look, just because I didn't like Dean at first…or Jess…or Logan…or any of the other losers she dated…" Lorelai took a deep breath. "Jeff was totally different. I knew from the beginning he was different. I knew he was 'it' long before Rory did."

"Of course you did," Luke teased.

"I did!" Lorelai protested. "They met when they were both covering the presidential campaign. Jeff's talent was spotted immediately and he got snapped up to do other things, but he and Rory just had this bond from the first. They 'got' each other, you know? No matter where they were or what was going on in their lives, they made time for each other. Rory kept insisting they were 'just friends', but I knew the truth from the first moment she mentioned him to me. And then when I met him, it was _so_ obvious. Even when I saw him on TV, there was always this little sparkle in his eye that I knew was because he was thinking about Rory ―"

"Wait. He's on TV?" Luke asked.

"Did I not mention that?" Lorelai gave a little sigh. She gave Lexie's hair a loving tousle. "This is Lexie Simmons."

Luke put his mug down abruptly, staring first at Lorelai and then Lexie, then Lorelai again. "Her dad is _Jeff Simmons_?" he hissed.

"_You_ know who Jeff Simmons is?" Lorelai asked, amazed.

"Yes, Lorelai, I know who Jeff Simmons is," Luke said in exasperation. "Is there anyone on the planet who doesn't know who Jon Stewart's successor is? Man, you must be over the moon!"

"That's not who he was when they first met," Lorelai chuckled. "He was just a really good guy who loved my daughter the way she deserved to be loved. All of the rest just sort of snowballed over the last few years."

"Unbelievable," Luke muttered. "So they met on the campaign trail?"

"Yep." Lorelai took a gulp of her coffee. "Ugh. This is so below your standards," she told him. "Anyway, even though Rory had this perfect guy in her life, she kept falling for all of these imbeciles and kept breaking her heart, and moaning around about how it was just never going to happen for her, and finally she came to visit me this one weekend and I just snapped as she was moping around about this latest loser, who I may add, made Logan look like Clark Kent. So I grabbed a piece of paper, and in about three minutes I had made the pro-con list to end all pro-con lists ―"

"Not the pro-con list!" Luke cried, rolling his eyes.

"Do not mock the pro-con list," Lorelai said firmly. "I'll have you know it worked. Rory took one look at it and ran to Jeff, and it's all been unicorns and rainbows ever since."

"Man." Luke tried to take this in. "Is Rory home with Lexie?"

"As much as she can be. She does some writing for the show. It's kind of their first baby. She does some freelance stuff. And she does some college lecturing, too. You know Rory. She never sits still, she's always striving to do more, and lately the good stuff just seems to be falling into her lap." Lorelai paused, looking at Luke. "She's really happy. She's…content."

"That's good to hear." Luke smiled at her, trying to keep the tinge of sadness out of his voice. He cleared his throat and asked hesitantly, "Did your parents get to see Lexie?"

"No." Lorelai's voice dropped. "They knew Rory was pregnant. It was funny, really, because Rory had decided not to tell them about being pregnant that last night at dinner. She had just found out, and she was worried about telling them and then having something go wrong. But we were sitting at what turned out to be our last dinner, and we were actually having such a great time with them, and Rory just suddenly blurted it out. It was 'Rory's going to Yale' all over again. They were so excited! Making all sorts of plans for the baby. Then the next week, they were in the accident."

Luke took her hand again, letting his thumb rub over hers. "I was so sorry to hear about that, Lorelai."

"I know," she nodded, "Your card got forwarded to me. I appreciated it."

"So now you're the big Gilmore honcho, huh?" Luke asked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"Watch yourself, buddy. I know where all the bodies are buried now!" She smiled a little. "Dad had actually been turning things over to me gradually for the five years before. We'd incorporated the Gilmore Foundation and got all of the trusts finalized. It keeps me busy, but it's really a well-oiled machine, and they don't need me on a day-to-day basis. I still do consulting for the Durham Group five or six times a year. I don't like to travel all of the time, but it's nice to go for a week or ten days, look over the property for them, and then make the recommendation. The rest of the time I'm available for Foundation stuff or when Rory needs me to pinch hit when her babysitting plans fall through."

"You're happy, then," Luke stated, his hand tightening on hers.

Lorelai blinked at him, trying to will a smile to her lips, trying to come up with some acceptable variation for the word happy. "I have a good life," she conceded.

Luke leaned over to help Lexie open her other tub of icing. She had been carefully picking up the sprinkles and eating them one by one.

"Oh, but you!" Lorelai suddenly grabbed her bag and started pawing through it. "I know about you! I can show you!"

Luke looked on in confusion while Lorelai opened her wallet and started to pull something out. As she unfolded the shiny piece of paper, Luke groaned.

"I can't believe you've got that. How in the world?"

"Jess and Rory still email occasionally." She grinned at him. "He alerted us, and we bought up all of the copies we could find." She finished spreading out the article from _Philadelphia_ magazine that featured Luke and his custom woodworking shop. "That is one fine picture of you, sir. How many ladies came to your door after that hit the streets?"

Luke didn't want to admit that there had been some. "Business picked up. That was the only reason I agreed to do the stupid thing."

"Your work is amazing, Luke. Of course, I always knew it was. I had the chuppah to prove it. Hey, how much do you suppose it is worth now that you're the 'It' guy of woodworking?"

"Probably the same thing it was worth when I was Luke in the diner world," he muttered.

"I visit your website," Lorelai told him. "I know what some of your stuff goes for. You've gotten quite a reputation, Luke."

Luke looked at her levelly. "You know, there's a contact link on the website."

"I know," Lorelai said, just as evenly. He didn't need to know how many times her finger had hovered over the 'send' button. She looked away and changed the subject. "How long have you lived there now?"

"I don't know exactly. Eight, nine years?" He tried to think back. "You left after Rory graduated, and I leased out the diner the next year. I tried to tell myself I'd grow to appreciate New Mexico, but it just wasn't for me. Too damn hot. Then April decided she wanted to come back to New England for college, so I decided to make the change, too. I mean, the only reason I went there anyway was for her. By then Liz and her family had already moved closer to Philadelphia for Jess, so I decided I'd find a place around there, too. I found this old house with a little acreage, and an old workshop I could fix up. It gave me something to do, and pretty soon all of Liz's crazy renaissance buddies wanted me to make them chairs, or shelves, or something, and the next thing I knew I had a business going. It didn't suck, you know? I actually enjoyed it. It was better than diner hours. Better money, too. And… no Kirk!"

They both laughed.

"Were you still in town when Taylor died?" Lorelai asked quietly, a few seconds later.

"No, but I heard about it from Gypsy when I finalized the sale on the diner." Luke shook his head. "Hard to think about Stars Hollow without Taylor Doose calling the shots, isn't it?"

"Sure is. When I first heard, I thought maybe you'd finally snapped and killed him. But it was one of the darn porcelain unicorns, huh?"

"Not quite." Luke smiled softly. "The second porcelain unicorn shop had gone out of business, and Taylor finally had his location for his collectible plate store. Gypsy said he was fussing with the electrician who was installing some new track lighting to shine down on the Elvis plates, when he just clutched his chest and keeled over."

"Sad."

"Yeah." Luke sighed. "And then Miss Patty…"

"I came back for her funeral," Lorelai said. "I wasn't going to believe she was gone without seeing it with my own eyes. At least she went out the way she always wanted to, with rose petals and a guy named 'Fernando' in her bed."

Luke's eyes opened wide. "I thought that was just a rumor."

"Oh, no, it was true. He sat in the back row, crying all over Crazy Carrie."

"Wow." Luke shook his head, trying to take that in. "Have you kept in touch with anyone else?"

Lorelai nodded happily. "Earlier this year, Rory and I took the Munchkin and flew out to California to see Lane and Zach and the boys. The boys are 12 now, all long and gangly like Zach, but with Lane's face and coloring. It's the oddest thing to see, but so them, you know? Kwan is turning into a pretty respectable rocker, much to his parents' pride, but Steve is studious and really thinks he has a religious calling. Of course, Mrs. Kim is beside herself with joy at the thought of that! She lives close to them, and tries to pretend she doesn't watch game shows all day and still claims to eat nothing but sprouted wheat muffins."

Luke grinned. "Lane sends me Christmas cards with pictures, but it's been a long time since I've actually heard anything from them. They've still got the recording studio going?"

"Yep. They've dabbled in all sorts of things, and Zach always seems to find whatever the next big thing in sound technician-y stuff is going to be before anyone else does. They still go out and play gigs, too. They've even hooked back up with Dave, you remember him? The guy who started Hep Alien in the first place?"

"Can't say as I do."

"Well, anyway, we had a great visit, and then we stopped at Sookie's on the way back home. Have you been there? It's like the best place on earth!"

"Lorelai," Luke said patiently, "if I'd been to Sookie's, do you think she might have, oh, I don't know, mentioned it to you?"

Lorelai giggled. "Yeah, you're right. She would have been on the phone instantly. But you should go. It's fabulous. They're outside Sandusky, Ohio, and Jackson raises the most amazing, exotic stuff, plus he runs a winery that's won all sorts of awards, and Sookie's restaurant showcases the wine and all of the stuff he grows, and every time you turn around, another gourmet magazine is talking about her talent, and all of the critics rave about her menu, because there _isn't_ a menu, because it's _Sookie_, you know, and she makes whatever catches her fancy every day. Being there with them was exhausting, but it was great. Davey's almost through with high school and looking at colleges. Talk about feeling old!"

"The other kids are OK?"

"All five of 'em."

"Five, that's…that's…wow. I don't think I knew about the last two."

Lorelai ticked them on her fingers. "Davey, Martha, Wanda, Collie and Regis."

"Collie?" Luke asked, skeptically.

Lorelai grinned. "Short for Colgate. Jackson finally got his way."

"Good God." Luke snorted a laugh. "Poor kid."

"Oh! And then last month I was in South Carolina, so I stopped by to see Babette and Morey," Lorelai remembered suddenly. "They're in an assisted care facility there. They just talked the management into letting them have a cat. It's named Brandy and it looks just like all of the other cats they've had."

"Morey still wearing the shades?" Luke asked.

Lorelai nodded, growing sober. "It's for a reason though, now. He's got that disease that's destroying his retina, so he needs to protect his eyes from the sunlight."

"Sorry to hear that," Luke said sincerely.

Lorelai nodded, and then grinned again. "It was weird to be there. They didn't build this place, so everything is normal-sized, you know? For once Morey doesn't have to stoop all over inside the house. And I swear Babette is totally shrinking. I don't think she even comes up to my waist anymore."

Luke chuckled at that. He'd been watching Lorelai nervously flip through her wallet as she talked to him, and now he turned it towards him so he could admire a picture in one of the plastic pockets there.

"We took that this year, on Mother's Day," Lorelai said eagerly. She slipped the picture out of the space and handed it to Luke, so he could see it clearly.

"Look at Rory," he marveled. She had always been a pretty girl, but now she looked like she had grown into her beauty, as though happiness and contentment could give Olay a run for their business. Rory was sitting on a stool, holding a laughing Lexie, while Lorelai stood behind them, leaning over Rory, with her arms wrapped around both of them. The smiles on all three faces were identical, as was the joy reflected in the three sets of blue eyes. "Beautiful," he told her, feeling rather than hearing the little catch in his throat. "Perfect."

"Keep it," she told him, as he made to give it back to her. "Believe it or not, I have others."

"If you're sure," he said. He got out his wallet to slip it inside. "Thanks." He noticed Lorelai's eyes trying to bore through the leather, and he wondered what she'd think if he showed her that yes, the horoscope was still there.

He jumped in his seat as his cell phone started to vibrate. "Damn thing still scares the daylights out of me," he groused to Lorelai as he answered it.

"Dad, where are you?" April asked him, bewildered. He wondered if she thought he'd finally cracked and left her in the bookstore as he'd threatened to do for years.

"I'm in the café," he told her.

Silence.

"_You're_ in the _café_?" she then asked, loud enough for Lorelai to hear her, too.

"Yes," he snapped, annoyed. "I'm in the café and I'm sitting with the most beautiful woman in the place. You can't miss me." He sounded cranky but grinned at Lorelai as he said it.

"O-kay," April said, not knowing what to make of her dad's apparent joke. "I'll be there in a minute."

"April's coming to find me," he told Lorelai, as he put away the phone and his wallet. "This is definitely a first. Usually I'm the one bugging her to leave."

Lorelai nodded, her face clouding over. A little flicker of something painful swept over her eyes. "Why don't I just get Lexie, and I can get out of your way…"

Luke caught her hands as she started to stand up and pulled her back down. "It's fine, Lorelai. It's really fine." He took a deep breath, and squeezed her hands harder. "It should have _always_ been fine." He was relieved when she gave him a wavering smile and squeezed his hands back.

A moment later April stood by the railing indicating the start of the café space and looked for Luke. She still wasn't sure he wasn't pulling her leg. She scanned the patrons there without seeing him. There was a guy with a jacket that looked just like her dad's, but that couldn't be…She looked closer, gasping when she realized that the handsome man was indeed her dad. He was smiling. She'd never seen him smile like that, all goofy and …Good Lord! She gasped again. He _was_ with a beautiful woman! They were holding hands!

Flabbergasted, April stared at the scene before her. Her brain couldn't take in the fact that some sort of picture-perfect child was sitting at the table, too. How in the world had her antisocial father picked up this stunning woman? Aunt Liz had tried every conceivable way to set him up, as had April herself as she'd gotten older, and he had refused them every time. How could it be that in a strange city, her father, Luke Danes, could be holding hands with…

"Lorelai?" April gasped out, finally recognizing her.

"Oh, honey, look at you!" Lorelai jumped up in her usual warm manner and hurried over to April, wrapping her in hug. "Look how tall you are! And so pretty!" She admired the way April had tamed her wild hair, smoothing it back into a chignon with just a few curling tendrils framing her face. The glasses were long gone, and April was at least as tall as Lorelai.

"Oh, Luke," Lorelai said, sounding a little choked. "Look at her chin, and the shape of her face. Oh, and her hands!" Lorelai shook her head a little, smiling. "She does look like you!"

Luke, the proud daddy, just grinned at them both.

"Oh, this is Lexie," Lorelai said, drawing April over to their table. "This is Rory's little girl."

"She's adorable," April said, admiring the cookie Lexie showed her. "It's good to see you again, Lorelai."

"It's been a long time since your thirteenth birthday party, huh? Now here you are, all grown up and smart and living in New York! I guess you can buy your own bags of lip gloss now."

"But they've never been as good as the ones with the sparkles in them that you found in Stars Hollow!" April insisted, smiling at the memory.

Lorelai tried hard to smile at the memory too, but she felt her lips quivering dangerously. When she turned away she saw that Lexie had laid her head down on the table.

"Uh-oh. It looks like I'm being a bad grandma here, making her stay up all past naptime." She glanced at her watch. "Yikes! I had no idea we'd sat here so long. I'd better be getting her home before Rory gives this babysitting gig to someone more punctual." She lifted the tired toddler out of the highchair, wiping her sticky hands with a napkin while Luke tried to help by bagging up the cookies.

"It's been…it's been really great to see you again. Both of you. So good. You have no idea," she babbled, getting Lexie's jacket on.

April stooped down next to Lexie for a moment, showing the little girl a book she was going to buy on butterflies.

Lorelai turned to Luke, who was trying to pretend it wasn't killing him to let her go. Something about standing there in the café made her think of the diner. She remembered leaning across the counter all those countless times, brushing his lips with a goodbye kiss. It seemed so right that she did just that, cupping his cheek with her hand and leaning forward to peck his lips.

That was what she intended, anyway. Luke could sense her thoughts because it was the same thing he was thinking. His hand slipped under her short hair, caressing her neck, and his other hand anchored onto her back. Somehow he managed to stand up, and in seconds what had been intended as a sweet, G-rated kiss escalated up several notches.

April noticed that Lexie was no longer looking at the butterfly book, but was focused on something over her shoulder instead. April turned to see what it was.

"Holy ―" She spun Lexie around, so as not to scar the girl for life, and cleared her throat loudly. "Lorelai, Lexie's ready to go," she said loudly.

Luke and Lorelai broke apart, looking dazed. Lorelai's hand was pushing on Luke's chest, as though she was trying hard to keep some distance between them. Luke's hand was on her face. Both of them were breathing hard.

"Go," Lorelai said, sounding distracted. "I need to go." She picked up her purse and then swung Lexie up to her shoulder. "Bye, April," she said, nodding to her. "Luke," she said softly, letting her hand graze his arm as she passed by.

"Bye," he said gently, dropping back down in his chair. He didn't watch her leave, but stared at his hands instead. He couldn't watch her leave. Not again.

"Would you care to explain that to me?" April demanded, once Lorelai was out of sight. She slipped into Lorelai's vacated seat.

"Explain what?" Luke asked, still staring at his hands.

"What?" April said incredulously. "That serious, heated groping that just happened here, that's what! Every woman in here is salivating over you right now. We might have to smuggle you out of here. Which would be OK, except that you're my dad, and it's a little disturbing, you know?"

"Sorry," Luke said gruffly, not able to look at his daughter yet. "That wasn't what I meant to have happen just now."

April sighed, shaking her head. "You know, you never told me what did happen between you and Lorelai. Just all of a sudden you weren't together any more. And I was just this self-centered kid and when you told me to never mind, it didn't matter, that's just what I did. But now I see that it did matter. It mattered a lot. What happened, Dad? Why did you break up?"

He swallowed hard, wondering if it wouldn't be better to still ignore it. But part of being a dad, he had learned, was trying to make sure your kid didn't make the same mistakes you did.

"I was stupid," he told April. "I was stupid, and I hurt her. Then, because she was hurting so bad, she did something awful and it hurt me back. And then," he said, looking so utterly destroyed that April's heart broke for him, "I did the stupidest thing of all. I did nothing. I did nothing, and now thirteen years have passed and we're still apart, and I…I miss her everyday," he admitted in a voice so low April could barely hear him.

"Ah, Dad," April said, reaching over to pat his back. "You still love her, huh?"

"Of course I still love her," he snapped. "You don't stop loving someone just because they're not around anymore."

"OK," April agreed, soothingly. "Well, let's get out of here and figure out how to get you two together again. Why don't we call her later, and ask her advice on decorating apartments or something…" She stopped at Luke's stricken look. "What?"

"Don't have it," he muttered.

April stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what he didn't have. It came to her suddenly, knowing her dad. "Oh, geez, Dad, you didn't get her number?"

Luke shook his head.

"Her address?"

Another shake.

"Rory's number? Anything?"

He sighed, rubbing his head.

"It's OK." She patted his shoulder again. "We'll figure out something. We'll Google her. If nothing else, we'll just camp out here in the bookstore until she brings Lexie in again." She pulled at Luke's arm until he reluctantly stood up and they headed to the cashier.

Luckily it appeared that Lorelai's genie was still on duty, because just as they stepped out onto the sidewalk to make their way through the mass of pedestrians towards April's apartment, they heard Luke's name being called. Luke turned, catching a glimpse of Lorelai's bobbing head. He thrust the package of books at April and hurried to meet Lorelai.

She sagged against him as he reached her, fighting for breath after her brisk jog back to intercept him, accomplished while carrying Lexie. He took Lexie from her and put an arm around Lorelai for support as she tried to catch her breath.

"She's heavier than she looks," Lorelai gasped out, pointing at Lexie.

"Yeah, that's it, because you're not out of shape or anything," Luke commented, trying not to be totally overcome with the relief of seeing her and the joy of having her physically in his arms again.

Lorelai smacked his arm for his snide comment. "You're the track star, Butch, not me."

April had made her way through the crowd to join them. She held Lexie's hand so her Dad could concentrate on Lorelai.

"Rory called," Lorelai said, as she tried to pull herself back together. "She was checking on Lexie, and of course, I told her all about seeing the two of you. And she said why don't you guys come over and join us for dinner tonight? If you want to, you know, if you don't have other plans. It will be really casual. There's a great Italian place down the block from them and we were just going to order in. Jeff should be home tonight and he'd love to meet you. And Rory wants to see you so badly." She looked pleadingly at Luke. "Please?"

Luke glanced at April. She smiled, nodding her approval.

"We'd love to," he said, feeling that goofy grin spreading over his face again.

"Good, good," Lorelai said, still panting a little bit. "I was so scared I wouldn't get back here in time to catch you. I was going to call and then I realized I was such a dope and didn't get your number."

"Yeah, there's a lot of that going around," April agreed, ignoring her dad's dirty look.

"Let me give you her address," Lorelai said, and April instantly whipped out her phone and took down all of the information.

"We'll see you around seven, then," Lorelai said, completely glowing with happiness. She picked Lexie back up and turned to leave. "Rory's going to be so excited!"

They watched her walk away. She turned back once to have Lexie wave at them.

"Yeah, _Rory's_ going to be so excited," April commented dryly.

Her dad wasn't listening to her at all, however. "I need to find a grocery store," he muttered, running his fingers through his beard while he made a list of ingredients in his head.


	2. A Dinner in Heaven

At 6:50 P.M. Luke and April were already on their way up to Rory's apartment. April had done her best to delay their departure, but her dad was not to be deterred. She hoped their early arrival wouldn't inconvenience their hosts, but her dad's stubbornness was out in full-force.

She needn't have worried. The elevator doors opened to Lorelai bouncing on her bare feet in front of them, clasping her hands in anticipation, looking every bit like a six-year-old on Christmas morning.

"You're here!" she cried at a level just below a shriek. She pulled them out of the elevator and tugged them towards the open door of the apartment down the hall, babbling the entire time about Carleton the doorman and the elevator she'd named Tom, "Because he's quiet and dependable, you know, and it might take longer than you think it should, but he always gets the job done," and at last they were inside the handsome apartment, with Rory barreling towards them, Lexie in her arms.

"Luke! Oh my God! Look at you!" Rory put Lexie down and threw her arms around him in a fierce hug, completely different from the shy teenager he often remembered. "Mom told me about the beard and I couldn't picture it, but now that I see it, it's perfect! You should have gone all mountain man a long time ago!" She stepped back about a foot but kept her hold on his arms, taking in the sight of him. "I can't tell you how many times I wished you were here," she told him in a quieter vein, sounding wistful.

"Look at _you_," Luke said gruffly, shaking his head. It was all he could get out. He gave a little wave at Lexie, who was regarding him gravely from behind Rory's legs.

"Look, Rory. Look at what this man's done." Lorelai's tone was reverential. She was peeking in the bag that April had handed her. "Smell," she demanded, holding the bag out to Rory.

Rory stepped over to see, squeezing April's arm in greeting as she did so. She leaned her head into the bag and sniffed deeply.

"Good Lord," she gasped, meeting her mother's laughing eyes. "It's pie."

"He made us pie," Lorelai agreed.

"My life is now complete," Rory said seriously.

"No, now it's complete," Lorelai amended, pulling out a can of whipped cream.

Lorelai sat down the bag and both Gilmore girls moved back to Luke, sandwiching him in a hug.

"It's cherry," he told them, unable to keep the pleased grin off of his face. "I tried to find boysenberry, but no luck."

"Cherry's perfect," Lorelai insisted.

"Having any of your pie here is a miracle," Rory said. "Thank you so much, Luke."

Lexie had gone over to investigate the bag with the good smells. Luke followed her over and pulled out a tiny little pie, baked in a tart tin.

"This is for you," he told the little girl.

Her eyes got huge. She pointed at her chest.

"Yep, just for you," Luke confirmed.

"Lexie pie?" she asked, amazed. Luke nodded, and Lexie broke out in the first smile Luke had seen. "Mama! Gammie!" she shouted, bouncing up and down in true Gilmore fashion. "Lexie pie!" Unable to contain herself, she started spinning around in wild circles, finally falling on her back on the floor, giggling.

"Well, Dad, looks like you've made another generation of Gilmores fall at your feet," April said in a dry tone that sounded very much like Luke's.

They all laughed at that, including Lexie, who wasn't sure why, and then Rory and Lorelai bustled around taking coats and getting drinks, and soon all of them were chatting and getting used to being together again.

April wandered over to the big windows to take in the view. Some framed clippings and pictures over a bookcase beside the window caught her attention. The strangled noise she made then had everyone looking over at her in concern. Her hand was shaking a little as she pointed at the items, looking back at Rory in disbelief.

"You didn't tell her?" Lorelai asked Luke.

"Nope." Luke's arms were folded over his chest, his face in a pleased smirk. "I thought it would be more fun this way." His daughter had teased him mercilessly all afternoon about seeing Lorelai again, so he thought giving her no warning about meeting one of her idols would be sweet payback.

"The credits," April mumbled in shock, still looking at Rory. "That's you. Rory Simmons. I had no idea." She looked down at herself, in a panic. "I'm not dressed enough!"

Rory laughed and walked over to reassure April that she was just fine, and then launched into telling her and Luke some background stories about how the show came to be.

In the next pause of the conversation, Luke asked, "By any chance, do you know what happened to the Banyan boys? I saw some kids today that reminded me of them, and I was wondering if they were in jail together or separately?"

Lorelai and Rory sent each other one of their looks.

"Well," Lorelai started, "the older one is in law school."

"No," Luke said, not believing it.

"Yes," Rory agreed, eagerly, "and the youngest one is at M.I.T. on a full math scholarship."

"No way," Luke said, more emphatically.

"And the middle one ―" Rory continued.

"You know, the one who always stole Baby Jesus from the manger scene every Christmas Eve, causing Taylor to practically stroke out?" Lorelai interjected.

Rory came through with the kill. "He's in divinity school."

Luke turned between the two of them, scowling. "Would it kill you guys to be serious?"

"Yes, yes, I believe it would," Rory said thoughtfully.

Lorelai was giggling. "Truthfully, I have no idea. I think the whole family moved away after the middle one got suspended for the third time."

The door opened at that moment, and Lexie took off running, screaming "Daddy!" at the top of her lungs.

Jeff came in, grabbed Lexie instantly and swung her up in a huge hug. "You have a good day?" he asked her.

"Lexie pie," she informed him very seriously.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, nodding his head as though that made perfect sense to him. He quickly looked around and then immediately crossed the room to Luke.

He shook Luke's hand warmly, a big grin on his face. "I've wanted to meet you for a long time. You're the hero in most of their stories," he said, motioning towards Rory and Lorelai, who were beaming at the sight of two of their favorite guys finally meeting.

"You realize how much they exaggerate, don't you?" Luke asked, trying to scowl, but he found he was smiling instead because he instinctively liked this guy. "This is my daughter, April," he said, introducing her.

Jeff quickly moved over to greet April, who was nervously smoothing down the fabric of her skirt.

"I'm trying hard to remember that I'm an adult and a fully-contributing member of society, so that I don't come off as a total fangirl," April admitted as she shook his hand.

Jeff laughed at that. "Hey, here I'm just Jeff. I'm just the guy who's lucky enough to be her husband," he pointed at Rory, who was smiling lovingly at him, "and this one's daddy." He tickled Lexie's tummy, which made her shriek in delight.

"And now for the really important part of the evening," Lorelai said, bringing in a steaming tray of lasagna from the kitchen. "The food! To be followed by…"

"Pie," Rory said in adoration.

The dinner went by quickly. Their personalities meshed harmoniously, one story seamlessly flowed into another, and many laughs sounded around the dining room table. Luke found that he couldn't take his eyes off of Lorelai for more than a few seconds, worried that this would all prove to be a dream and she'd disappear again if he didn't watch her closely.

Finally it was time for dessert, and both Lorelai and Rory were at last moaning at the cherry goodness, exaggeratedly licking it from their forks. Luke was fighting the urge to glare at Lorelai and grin at the familiar sounds at the same time.

Jeff rapped his hands down smartly on the edge of the table, and when everyone looked at him in surprise, he pointed at Rory and Lorelai, his face stern. "I will remind you who your audience is here tonight," he said tersely, his shoulder indicating Lexie, who was happily dismembering her own little pie and licking cherry glaze off of her fingers, totally oblivious to the other antics going on at the table.

"Sorry," Rory said instantly, sounding contrite. She gave the puppy dog eyes to Jeff. "But it's _really_ good pie."

"And it's been a really _loooong_ time," Lorelai added through a mouthful of whipped cream, batting her eyelashes at Luke.

"Why do I even bother?" Jeff grumbled. "You would not believe the things I've heard come out of their mouths," he confided to Luke.

"Uh, yeah, actually I would," Luke pointed out.

Jeff laughed at that. "Yeah, I guess you would be the one other person in the world who would!" He gave Luke a warm look, thinking how nice it would be to have someone in his corner when his wife and Lorelai ganged up on him.

The dinner ended and Lorelai moved to remove the plate in front of Luke, tucking her hair behind her ear as she did so. Luke was once again touched as he saw the earring dangling there, reminding him of the possibilities the years still held for them, perhaps.

"I still can't believe this," he murmured to Lorelai, but loud enough for everyone else to hear. "Aunt Liz made these," he told April, "and I gave them to Lorelai a long, long time ago, before we even started dating. I can't believe she had them on today, of all days."

Rory gave a little snort of derision, and Lorelai's face had a touch of panic in it as she turned to glare at Rory.

"Yeah, what a coincidence, huh, Mom?" Rory said with hint of mockery, as Lorelai continued to give her a pleading look. "Just like fate stepped in."

April moved over to examine the earrings. She shook her head a little. "It always amazes me how beautiful Aunt Liz's creations are. I mean, I love her, don't get me wrong, but the woman can barely find her way out of her house sometimes, but in spite of that, her jewelry is always exquisite. I don't know how she does it." She cast one last critical gaze between the delicate beads and Lorelai's face. "She always manages to put something special in, so that each piece seems to be custom-created to match the person who wears it."

"Oh, she didn't make these for me," Lorelai said, anxious to clarify that point.

"Yeah, I think she did," Luke said firmly.

Lorelai shared a look with him for a minute, and when he refused to look away, she finally shut her eyes and turned on her heel, heading for the kitchen.

Luke watched Rory furtively for a minute, wondering what the deal was with the earrings. It was obvious there was something going on.

In short order Rory finished clearing the table with her mother's help, and came to extricate Lexie from her father. "Time for bed," she told the little girl.

Lorelai had been heading towards the couch to sit next to Luke, but Lexie made a beeline for her and wrapped her arms around her grandmother's leg, effectively halting her progress across the room.

"Gammie's night," Lexie insisted.

Rory followed her and tried to reason with her. "Come on Lex, let Grammie stay here and talk to Luke, and Mommy'll put you to bed tonight."

"No!" Lexie was adamant and continued to cling to Lorelai's leg. After several more minutes of Rory's cajoling, Lexie stepped away from Lorelai, but she crossed her arms over her chest and her lips poked out in a pout.

Luke burst out laughing, and when everyone turned to look at him, he said, "Oh, give it up, Lorelai. I know that face. There's no way you can resist it. I know that better than anyone!"

Jeff shifted so he could see Lexie's face, and then gave Luke a sympathetic look. "Oh, yeah, the pouty face. I swear, one day, if all three of them ever hit me with it at the same time, my head will implode."

Lorelai looked torn. "It's just, whenever I stay over, bedtime is kinda our thing," she explained to Luke.

"It's fine," Luke told her with a smile. "Go enjoy it."

The bedtime drama settled, Lexie ran to kiss and hug her parents goodnight. She then turned and regarded Luke solemnly before coming over to him. She held onto his knee, raising herself up on her tiptoes. Thinking she wanted to say something to him, Luke leaned over to listen. To his great surprise, she pressed a baby kiss against his cheek. Bedlam ensued.

"Oh my God, she never ―"

"I can't believe she ―"

"Luke, you should feel honored, because Lex never ―"

Lexie turned around, knowing that the adults were all talking about her and not liking it one bit. "Gammie did it," she said in a no-nonsense voice, pointing at Lorelai. She hoped that logic would stop the discussion about what she'd done.

April broke the momentarily stunned silence in the room. "Oh, believe me, it wasn't just Gammie that was doing it."

Luke glared at April, who smiled sweetly back at him, while Rory and Jeff laughed and Lorelai's face flushed, matching the shade underneath Luke's whiskers.

"Well, if Grammie did it, it must be OK, huh?" Rory said brightly, giving the little girl a fake smack on her bottom, which sent her scooting over to Lorelai. Lexie gave a shy wave to April, then pulled Lorelai down the hall, eagerly anticipating her bedtime stories.

Rory came to sit by Luke. "I haven't seen Mom this happy in ages," she commented.

Luke nodded, but he didn't want to necessarily discuss that with Rory. He motioned towards Jeff, who was deep into an animated conversation with April concerning biological engineering. "He seems like a really good guy."

"He is." Rory smiled fondly. "You would have never had to put him in headlock. Or push him into the lake. He's always been perfect. It just took me longer than it should have to realize it."

"Your mom made it sound like she was instrumental in that," Luke said, letting his natural skepticism about Lorelai's belief in her abilities come through his words. "I believe a pro-con list was mentioned."

Rory looked genuinely shocked. "She told you about the pro-con list?" When Luke nodded, but didn't add anything else, she started to grin. "Oh, I see. She told you the list existed, but she didn't tell you what was on the list, did she?"

Luke shrugged, not really understanding.

"Typical," Rory muttered. "Come on." She stood, and tugged Luke up with her. "You should see the list."

Luke tried to protest, motioning over towards April and Jeff.

"They'll be fine," Rory said dismissively, continuing to tug Luke down the hall. "They won't even know we're gone."

Luke felt extremely awkward walking into their bedroom, but thankfully it was tidy and orderly. Rory directed him to a black table topped with a hutch on one side of the room. It was obviously Jeff's, and Luke made his way over to it.

He admired the craftsmanship of the furniture for a moment before his eyes were drawn up to a matching black-framed, matted document hanging above the desk. A ray of light from a wall sconce illuminated it. When he leaned closer, he recognized Lorelai's loopy handwriting. He pulled out his reading glasses and settled them on his face, leaning even closer to make out the words.

'_Is Jeff Rory's Luke?_' He read the words scrawled across the top of the page as his heart skipped a beat. A line was drawn under these words, and then the rest of the page was divided into two. On the 'pro' side, Lorelai had listed 27 things, starting with 'He makes a damn fine cup of coffee' and including 'He is never too busy to listen to your whole story' and 'As long as you're with him, the world is perfect' and ending with 'He makes you happier than you ever thought you could be.' Under that, Rory had added five more intimate comments of her own, which Luke quickly skipped over.

On the 'con' side, Lorelai had written, 'His name is Jeff, not Luke' and Rory had added 'I can't think of anything else.'

While Luke was reading, Rory came to stand beside him. He finished, ducking his head down, not wanting Rory to see the emotion struggling on his face. He took off his glasses and returned them to his pocket, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand.

"I was a mess that weekend," Rory told him gently. "This guy I'd convinced myself I was in love with had just dumped me, and in turn, I came to visit Mom and dumped all over her." She chuckled a little, shaking her head. "What an idiot I was. Mom couldn't take it anymore. I know now she really liked Jeff, but just the way she always wanted me to make my own decisions when I was screwing up, she also didn't want to be the one to point out to me how perfect he was. But that weekend I broke her, and she grabbed a sheet of paper and had this down on it in no time. Apparently she'd been giving it some thought over the years. I looked at it, and…" Rory drew in a deep breath. "It was all so clear. I don't know why I was refusing to see it until then. I told Mom goodbye, got in the car, called my boss on the way and told her I wouldn't be in the next day, and drove straight to Jeff. I walked in and showed him this."

Rory folded her arms across her chest, smiling at the memory. "He'd been around us enough by then that he knew exactly what this meant," she said, pointing at the framed paper. "I'll never forget the look of relief and…well, adoration in his eyes." Rory shyly glanced at Luke. "He looked at me just the way you always looked at Mom. He said ―" and here Rory had to pause a second, swallowing hard. "He said, 'Finally. Thank God.'"

Luke nodded, swallowing hard, too. He knew exactly how Jeff had felt.

"So, we got engaged that night and married three months later," Rory summed up with a happy sigh. "All hail the power of the pro-con list!"

"But Rory," Luke said, rubbing his hand over his face and feeling terrible, "your mom and I, how we ended…Does he know that?"

"He knows everything," Rory said soberly. "Although he wouldn't if it was only from Mom, because she always takes all of the blame on herself. But I told him both sides. It's why we talk about everything, no matter how busy we are. It's why we got married so fast. We wanted to start our middle as soon as possible."

"We're the cautionary tale," Luke sighed, years of deep regret etched on his face.

"Here, I wanted to show you something else," Rory said, drawing his attention to a picture she was holding.

It was a beautiful photograph of Lorelai and Rory, obviously taken on Rory's wedding day. It was a close-up shot of the two of them, their heads leaning together just as Luke had seen them do thousands of times. Rory's veil was blowing gently around their shoulders. Their smiles were shining out of the photo, and their eyes were glittering with happiness and unshed tears. Luke knew he should be admiring Rory on her wedding day, but he was having trouble taking his focus away from Lorelai.

"Oh!" he breathed out suddenly, his finger touching the beads around Rory's neck in the picture.

"Yeah," Rory said softly, leaning against his shoulder as they both looked at the picture, "I wore your mother's pearls. It seemed appropriate."

"Would have made her happy," he said gruffly.

"I still think April should have them," Rory started, as Luke instantly began protesting. "I know, I know," she said, placating him. "But maybe we could share them. You know, if she wants them on _her_ wedding day or something."

Luke stopped his objection abruptly. "Well, if you girls want to make some sort of arrangement like that, that'd be fine, but that's up to you."

Rory nodded, satisfied at the compromise. "That's not why I'm showing you this picture, though," she said. "Look at Mom's ears."

"Her ears?" Luke couldn't imagine why Rory said that until he saw that Lorelai had on the same earrings she was wearing today. He looked at Rory in confusion.

"She always wears them, Luke. Everyday. Sometimes when she has to go to some big fancy Foundation thing she'll dig a pair of Grandma's diamonds out of the lockbox, but otherwise, this is it."

Luke went from feeling uncomfortable in Rory's bedroom to plopping unceremoniously down on the end of their bed, still staring at the picture. He needed to sit down and let this fact wash over him for awhile.

"There hasn't been anyone else, Luke, not in thirteen years," Rory continued. "Sometimes she'll let someone set her up, as a favor to them, but it never goes anywhere. If she needs an escort she'll ask some 70-year-old board member to take her. I don't know how you feel. I don't know if you've been able to forgive her. But you need to know that in her heart, you're still it." Rory's voice got stronger, took on more of a warning edge. "I don't know how _you_ feel," she repeated. "But if you're still angry with her, with what she did, or if you still don't want her to be a part of your life, you need to_ not_ be kissing her in bookstores. I love you, Luke, but I can't stand to help Mom go through that heartbreak again. It was too hard the last time." Her chin jutted out at him in defiance.

Luke kept tracing his finger over Lorelai's gorgeous face in the picture. He cleared his throat, trying to get his thoughts together enough to answer Rory.

"I forgave her a long, long time ago," he started. "I know how badly I hurt her, to make her do what she did. That night, out in the street, she asked me if I loved her." He gave an intensely bitter laugh. "_She_ had to ask _me_ if I loved her. Me! The 'wonderful' guy who worshiped her from afar for eight long years before finally making a move. The guy who fixed everything for her, took care of her, was always there for her." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "That made me so angry that night. I couldn't fathom how she could dare to ask me that. Then, after the dust started to settle, and I had nothing to do but think, every idiotic thing I did to her came back and kicked me in the butt. I can't believe I treated _Lorelai_ the way I did." He shook his head, staring at the floor.

Rory said hesitantly, "If you're still worried about Dad…"

Luke held up a hand, stopping her. "Christopher was never our real problem."

"OK," Rory said doubtfully, not completely agreeing in her heart, "but I don't think she's seen him a half dozen times since she left Stars Hollow. Just so you know. Our wedding, the day Lexie was born, some other major family things…that's about it."

"I don't know what I could say," Luke sighed. He suddenly felt so tired. So old. "I could say I won't hurt her, that I'll take care of her, but I said that all before and I broke my word. I don't know what I can say to make you believe me now. She's still the only one in my heart too. It's always been her; it's always going to be her. It's ridiculous that we've spent the past thirteen years apart. I've only been half-living. Every joy, every pleasure I've had has been cut in half because I'm regretting that she's not there to share it with me. I love her. I miss her. Everything that happened with your dad, it just doesn't matter. It doesn't matter at all."

Rory put her hands on her hips and regarded Luke with the same intense gaze that Lexie had earlier. She took her time, making him squirm. "OK," she finally said, decisively.

"OK?" Luke questioned. "OK what?"

"You may court my mother again," Rory said, smiling at him affectionately.

"Do you think she wants me to?" Luke asked hesitantly.

"You probably have a better insight into that than I do at this point," Rory retorted, raising her eyebrows significantly. "What do you think?"

Luke reviewed the events of the day. "I think…yes," he concluded.

Rory threw her arms awkwardly around him in a hug that seemed more true to her former self. "Glad to have you back," she whispered. She straightened up, looking exceptionally pleased. "Now, come make us coffee!"

Luke followed her down the hall into the kitchen, where she got out supplies and he started a pot of coffee. Rory filled a teakettle with water and put it on the stove, getting out an assortment of teas as well.

"Jeff a tea drinker?" Luke asked.

"No," Rory said, hesitating slightly. "It's Mom's. She still adores coffee; don't get me wrong, but especially in the evening she likes a cup of tea. I think it's like the earrings," she admitted to him in confidence. "I think it's another way she found to keep a connection to you."

They had just rejoined April and Jeff when Lorelai returned from putting Lexie to bed. She sniffed the air jubilantly and quickly helped herself to a cup of coffee. Luke had settled himself at the table with a mug of tea, and Lorelai joined him there. Rory sat at a stool at the counter, directly behind Lorelai, while Jeff and April were sitting on the couch right in front of them.

Luke was happy to sit and listen to the other four be smart and glib and snarky, appreciating their quick, intelligent comments, but he'd nearly forgotten Lorelai's gift of including him into social situations so deftly that he didn't even realize it was happening. He knew she'd always loved him for just who he was, but at the same time she was always able to subtly prove he wasn't his Uncle Louie, either. He could never figure out exactly how she did it. He'd be sitting quietly on his own, and Lorelai would direct a comment to him. He'd make a reply calculated to make her laugh, but others would laugh too, and soon he'd be right in the middle of whatever discussion was going on, smiling and involved. He'd then look over at Lorelai, who would be smugly grinning back at him, so incredibly pleased at herself.

April made a pointed comment at that moment that nailed a situation perfectly, and the others laughed and cheered and complimented her. Luke looked at his daughter dotingly.

Thinking back to the conversation he'd just had with Rory, he again thought about how often he felt only half alive. He realized suddenly that by keeping Lorelai away from April all those years ago, he hadn't safeguarded the relationship he was trying to build with his daughter at all. By keeping Lorelai out, he'd cheated April. He'd cheated her out of a stepmother who would have loved her like her own. He'd cheated her out of a stepsister who would have been able to smooth the way for her in college applications, scholarships, boys, and countless other things. But by far the biggest thing he'd cheated April out of had been himself. All of the years he'd been in April's life, standing there with pride as she mastered one challenge after another, he'd cheated her out of a father who was solely in the present with her. As he'd just admitted to Rory, half of him was always thinking of Lorelai, wishing she was there, wishing he could share each milestone with her. Without Lorelai's constant commentary in his ear, life just seemed to pass by.

He watched as Lorelai, Rory and Jeff all welcomed April into their family, making her feel that she'd always been a part of them. He watched his daughter bloom with confidence and enthusiasm while the laughter and quick words swirled around them.

God, what a fool he'd been. He'd known that for quite some time now, but seeing it confirmed tonight, it smacked him directly in the face. God. Such a fool. What a waste of his life.

Eventually, reluctantly, it was time to go. Lorelai followed Luke and April out into the hall after they'd said their goodbyes.

April could feel the weight of everything still not said between her dad and Lorelai settling down on her shoulders.

"You know, I think I'll go down to the lobby and ask Carleton to call us a cab," she suggested, wanting to give them some privacy. "Take your time, Dad. Lorelai, it was a wonderful night. Thanks again for having us." She impulsively gave Lorelai a hug, which was gratefully returned, before heading to the elevator.

Luke was watching Lorelai, who was staring down at the fuzzy cow slippers she'd put on her bare feet as the evening wore on. He reached out to rub at her shoulder, which made her jump from nerves.

"Have breakfast with me tomorrow," he requested.

"I…I don't know about that," she hedged, not meeting his eyes for the first time.

"Come on," he urged, letting his fingers ply closer to her neck. "I can't make you pancakes, but I can at least buy you some. I'm willing to bet that you know a great place to get breakfast."

"Luke, I'm just not sure…this…is a good idea." Regret sounded loud and clear in her voice. She started to wring her hands.

"Please." He wasn't sure what had suddenly caused this hesitation after her enthusiasm all day, but he wasn't about to go back to his life without her. "Please." He put his fingers under her chin and tilted her face towards him, stroking along the line of her jaw with his thumb. "I'm not ready to say goodbye to you yet."

Her eyes shot up to his, and he thought he could see love and panic in equal measures there.

She let out a breath. "OK," she finally agreed. "There's a shop about two blocks just south of here, called the Cup and Saucer. Their pancakes aren't as good as yours, but the French toast is pretty delectable." She went on to give him directions and they agreed to meet at 8 o'clock the next morning.

One of his hands was still caressing her face and he now used the other one to wrap around her back and draw her to him in a hug.

"Didn't you used to be taller?" he asked her, teasingly.

"No heels," she told him, a little muffled, sticking out a foot. "Messed up this knee pretty good last winter on a patch of ice. No more insanely high heels."

"That sucks," he commented, knowing her love of shoes. He was trying to be strong, trying to leave without kissing her, but it was useless. He tipped her head up to him and let his lips linger over hers.

They both made the effort to restrain themselves, but it was a lost cause. They knew each other too well. They knew where their hands went and how their bodies fit. Thirteen years disappeared into a mutual sigh of longing as they broke apart.

"See you in the morning," he said softly against her temple, pressing a kiss there along with his words.

"I'll be there," she promised with all her heart, and watched sadly as he stepped into Tom the elevator.


	3. A Breakfast in Hell

In an imitation of the evening before, Luke got to the coffee shop early. He'd had a restless night on April's couch, turning to stare repetitively at the clear red numbers displayed on her DVD player, trying to will them to move forward faster. Somewhere during the long night, while the numbers changed from the twos to the threes, he'd decided that today was it. To hell with all of that 'actions speak louder' crap. He was telling her today. Spelling it out for her, if needed. Letting her know that the last 13—make that 14—years were all wrong. And it was all getting fixed. Today.

So it was with determination that he walked inside the coffee shop. He knew he was early, and she'd be late, but he'd go ahead and get a table for them anyway, preferably one where he could watch the sidewalk and spot her coming.

He moved forward to speak to the hostess, but he heard "Luke!" before the words were out of his mouth. He couldn't really believe that Lorelai was already at a table, waving at him.

He slid into the seat across from her, shaking his head in stunned amazement.

"I know, I know," she teased him, pouring him some tea from a pot she already had at the table. "Sometimes you _can_ teach those old dogs some tricks, you know? Especially when they don't need all that sleep anymore and don't have to spend hours on their hair!" She flicked her gleaming short hair under her chin, looking at him triumphantly.

Luke laughed, catching her hand as she finished pouring her own tea.

"Where's my crazy coffee lady?" he asked, pointing to her cup.

"She still has the addiction, but this is nice, too, sometimes," Lorelai told him, stirring in some sugar.

They sipped the hot tea for a few minutes while rehashing events from the night before. Luke admitted how very much he'd enjoyed Jeff's company and he told her how April's feet had barely touched the ground on their way home. He wanted to make sure she knew how much fun April had had with them.

They had moved on to chatting about some old Stars Hollow landmarks when Luke casually asked, "So, do you miss running the Dragonfly?"

In his mind it was nothing too different from any of the other reminiscing they'd been doing for the past day, but from Lorelai's reaction to his simple question, he could tell he'd stepped over an invisible line. He didn't think she was going to be able to answer him at all. She looked away at first, and then over his shoulder, and then she stared at her teacup, all the while drawing in sharp little breaths, her fingers clutching at the edge of the table. He was willing to pretend he hadn't even asked the question, when she took one last, deep breath and got herself under control.

"Everyday," she murmured. She looked at him, finally, searching out his eyes. "I miss it everyday. Almost as much as I miss you."

Luke couldn't stand the drained, exhausted look in her eyes, so he squeezed his shut. "We had such a good life, Lorelai." He couldn't look at her yet, but he reached for her hands. "We had such a good thing, and I screwed us up. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, you can't play this blame game all on your own. You had help, you know." She patted his hand soothingly, and he looked up at her then, taking in the weak smile that was struggling onto her trembling lips. "It's all in the past, Luke. Let it go."

"Just like I let you go?" he asked bitterly.

"I was bent on destruction that night," she said softly. "Sure, some crazy part of me thought that maybe you'd go for it, but I knew. I knew what your answer was going to be before I even started. I needed for it to be over, Luke. I'm still so sorry about what happened after, that wasn't…Well, you know that. But even as crazy as I was that awful night, I still recognized that the only way I was going to be able to salvage some part of me was by climbing out of the Pit of Despair we'd created. Hurt like hell, though, didn't it?" Her mouth quivered into some sort of grim smile.

"Still does," he growled. "But I didn't mean that night. I meant the night the next year, when you came to tell me you were leaving town. If I'd told you 'don't go' that night, would you have stayed?" He stared challengingly at her.

In his mind Luke relived that night again. He'd been closing up when he heard the light tap on the glass. Shock nearly knocked him sideways when he saw it was her on the step. She hadn't been to the diner for at least a year. He hurried over to the door, reminding himself to stay calm.

Lorelai had entered at his offhand invitation. She was warm, soft, and gracious, and tried hard not to babble. Very kindly she explained how it had been over a year, and even though she'd hoped that maybe they could find their way back to their particular brand of friendship, she could see that everything was still so raw and painful it wasn't going to happen. So she'd sold her share of the Dragonfly to the Durham Group and was going to work for them. Rory had recently graduated and was off starting her career, and Lorelai wanted to be free to go wherever Rory settled. She was going to rent out the Crap Shack for now, but would sell it if things went well. She wanted him to know, she said, before he got wind of it from someone else. She wanted him to know how much she'd loved their time together. She wanted him to know, she added, her words becoming choked, how very much she wanted him to be happy.

Luke could see everything there on her face. He could hear how much she still loved him. He could feel what she wanted him to say. But he kept his own face a careful mask because his damn pride still wouldn't let him reach out to her. Instead he wished her well. He thanked her for her consideration. Told her to stop by if she came back to town. Asked if she needed him to look after anything on the house. He could have been talking to his bread guy, for all the more feeling he put into the words. And he hated himself more with every one of the false words he forced out of his mouth.

Lorelai squared up her shoulders then and lifted her chin. She said "Bye, Luke" without any tears and walked out the diner's door for the last time. The bell jingled at her exit and the sound stayed lodged in his ears for weeks, haunting him.

"Would you have stayed?" he asked again.

"Yes," she answered simply. "But you weren't ready, and that's fine, Luke. I just couldn't sit there and wait and pretend I was all right anymore. It was still self-preservation on my part."

"God, such an ass," he muttered, rubbing his face.

"Hey, don't you talk about my friend like that," Lorelai said playfully, poking at his arm.

She seemed desperate after that to get the conversation back to something lighter. "Here's a question I've been pondering," she said, voicing the first thing that came to her mind. "What's the 'L' and 'L' stand for in your business? I figure it's 'Luke' and then I'm stumped. 'Lovely Luke?' 'Lively Luke?' 'Lascivious Luke?'" she teased.

He sighed, grabbed a napkin, and took a pen from his inside jacket pocket.

"Oh, sure, _now_ you carry a pen," she groused.

Luke scribbled something on the napkin and turned it for her to see.

Her eyes grew wide as she saw her own name there. "I―I don't understand."

Instead of replying, he underlined the first 'L' in her name, and then the second.

She stared down at the letters. "I don't know what to say. That's…Wow. So not what I was expecting."

He shrugged, putting the pen back. "It was the only name I could think of," he told her. Confidence suddenly filled him, and he wrapped his hands over her arms lying on the table. "It's the only name I can ever think of."

"Luke…" she began, weakly.

"Come back with me, Lorelai," he said quickly. "I want you to be there. I want to show you my shop and have you see what I'm making. Come and see Liz, and the kids, and—oh, hell—even T.J. Please come. It would be so wonderful to have you there. Please." He held his breath, praying that he wasn't already messing this up.

Lorelai's eyes were swimming, and she took her time answering. She wanted to make sure her voice was going to be strong enough and not crap out on her when she needed it most.

"You know, in the movies, the woman always lies to the guy because somehow she always thinks that's going to be easier on him," she started to explain, very gently. "But I'm not going to lie to you, Luke, because I want you know how very much I would love to be with you, but I can't, and I want you to understand why."

"_Lorelai_." He instantly started to explode in protest.

"Hush you," she said firmly. "You've got to let me get through all this while I can. See, by now you've learned how to live without me. It's true," she stated, seeing him start to protest again. "I know it still hurts and you still think about me, probably as much as I think about you. But you've figured out a way to live; you've figured out a way to have some happiness. If you let me back in now, you'll just have to go through all of it all over again, and I can't do that to you, Luke. Because the truth is, I'm not going to be around much longer."

She drew in a huge shuddering breath and then blew it out while Luke desperately tried to change her mind.

"That's crazy," he said, his irritation building. "Do you honestly think I'm going to let you get away from me again? No! This is it, Lorelai! You are coming back with me, or I'm staying here, but either way, we're together! I don't care if you've got to go away for awhile. I'll wait—or even better, I'll just come with you. That's the great thing about having my own business, and it's not a diner I have to open everyday. I'm the boss, and if the boss wants to shut the doors for awhile, that's just the way it is. But there's no way—_no way_—we're not going to be together!"

Lorelai let him grasp her hands but she looked off to the side, swallowing hard until she felt herself gain some control again. Only then did she look back into Luke's scowling face.

She let her thumbs smooth over his. "Luke," she said, very, very gently, with the utmost tenderness, "I've got cancer." He felt his heart turn to stone, to ice. She kept talking, keeping her voice even and as gentle as possible. "It's the pancreatic kind. They've made such amazing progress in treatment, but that's one type that still basically has them stumped. They won't use the term 'death sentence,' you know, but that's what the prognosis pretty much means." She actually managed to smile tenderly at him.

He worked his mouth and finally got it to move. "No," he forced out, thickly.

"That was just about my reaction," she agreed.

"Rory?"

"She doesn't know yet." Lorelai shook her head. "And please don't tell her, Luke. I'm trying to make all of the memories I can right now for her and Lexie and I don't want them to be all bogged down in the sadness of it, yet. That's the one thing that just…I can't stand to think…If Lexie won't even remember…"

Luke held her hands even tighter as she fought for control. "Of course she'll remember. Of course she will. But…this can't be it. There's got to be treatments…or drugs…or something! We'll find…we'll find something!" He closed his mouth as the desperate anguish building inside of him tried to flow out.

"You've got to realize how many doctors I know through the Foundation," she explained to him, still being as tender and soft as she could. "I've been to every expert any of them knows about. I know what my options are, Luke, and I've accepted them. I've made plans. I know what I want to do yet. And believe me, you were right on top of that 'Things to do before I die' list." She stopped abruptly and actually giggled. "Man, I really did not mean for that to sound that dirty!"

Luke's mouth fell open at that. She was making jokes?

"This," he told her, his voice starting to rise, "is not happening. Do you hear me?_ This. Is. Not. Happening. _Not now. Not when I've just found you again!"

"We don't have a choice," she reminded him.

"Choice? A _choice_?" He felt the start of a rant to end all rants bubbling out of his chest. He was panicking and angry and he didn't care what sort of a scene he was about to create. "A choice like I made 14 years ago when I shut you out of my life? Like the choice I made when I let you walk away from me that night? Like the choice I made to keep my pride intact instead of letting you stay in your home and run your business? That kind of choice, Lorelai?"

By now people were nervously looking over at them.

"Luke," she begged, pulling on his arm.

He shook off her hand and stood by the table, his anger at the world tumbling out. "We were too stupid to see our beginning, too busy with the Rachels and the Christophers and the Maxes to even see each other. Then we managed to screw up what should have been our middle, and now you're telling me we don't even get our end? How is that fair? How is that right? What sort of freakin' deity would allow that to happen in any sort of universe? Explain to me how that could possibly be in some sort of plan!" He was shouting loudly now, waving his arms around to try and shake off the cold, dead weight settling on his chest.

"Luke," she tried again, tears starting to roll down her cheeks, the agony of seeing him so broken bringing on her own pain.

"No!" he shouted, crashing his hands down on the table. A waiter was heading towards them with the cook following from behind the counter. The hostess was on the phone, calling for help. "No!" he shouted, over and over. He saw the tormented look on Lorelai's face but he couldn't stop, not even for her. It hurt _so_ much, and if he just kept shouting, maybe he could keep the truth at bay, at least for a moment. As long as he kept yelling and protesting and venting against God and the universe, he could pretend it wasn't true. As long as he kept screaming and pounding his hands against the table, he could ignore that he was going to lose this woman again. Maybe then he wouldn't feel the pain in his chest, and he could go on, even though he could no longer breathe…

The last thing he saw was Lorelai's magnificent eyes shimmering with tears. Then everything went black.

* * *

><p>Luke awoke with a guttural cry torn from somewhere deep inside of him. He was totally disoriented and floundering in the dark. His heart felt like it was trying to hammer its way out of his chest, while his lungs were working overtime to replenish his oxygen supply. His throat was rubbed raw from his anguished shouts.<p>

_Oh, God! Lorelai! Lorelai! _

He remembered. Oh God, he remembered. Despair overwhelmed him. He'd never felt so broken. Not even on that morning when she'd told him what she'd done. Not even all those years ago, when he first lost his mother, and then his dad. That pain; those losses were monstrous, but he'd been young enough then that he instinctively knew life would once again be better. Now he knew the truth.

He was drenched in sweat and he shivered slightly. It was so dark; too dark to make out any features in the room, yet the place had an oddly familiar feel to it.

Instinctively he reached over, feeling for the switch on the bedside lamp. It clicked on and Luke saw his room over the diner.

Trying to contain his panic, he pushed himself down further into the mattress. His blood pounded in his ears as he tried to make sense of it all. Rationally, he understood. _This_ was real. _That_ had been a dream.

As a sane person, he understood. He knew some dreams could hit hard and seem as real as any everyday occurrence. He understood immediately that his mind had made it all up. Lorelai was fine. She wasn't dying. She was living just a few streets away from him.

_She's fine_, he told himself, even while he continued to blink away painful tears. _She's just fine_.

Luke drew in a deep breath and held it, trying to calm himself further. He decided that he could accept it had all been a dream. He understood his subconscious had fabricated it. He could recognize it was all made up, except…Lexie? There really wasn't a Lexie in the world? He could still feel the way she'd snuggled against his chest, the way her soft baby lips had kissed his cheek. She didn't exist?

That thought left him with a whole new wave of grief.

Luke kicked away the twisted sheets from his body and shakily got out of bed. He stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the light and diving for the sink, splashing water on his face and over his arms, finally cupping his hands under the faucet and drinking from them, trying to ease his parched throat. Grabbing his towel, he dried off, staring in amazement at his mirrored reflection that showed his usual scruff instead of a beard. He actually reached up and ran a hand over his face.

_Young_, he thought. _I look like hell, but I'm still young enough. I don't have to give up yet._

He went back out into the main room and shuffled over to the kitchen, where he pulled open the cabinet door to look at the calendar hanging inside, still needing to convince himself that instead of 13 years apart, it had only been 13 days. He should know; he'd counted them up just before bed. Probably why '13' had stuck in his head.

Spying his cell phone lying on the counter, he snatched it up, scrolling through the numbers of everyone he cared about. Lorelai, of course. The Dragonfly. Jess and Liz. There was Caesar's home number, and even Taylor's. Rory. Sookie's numbers, both her cell and the kitchen in the Dragonfly. Lorelai had insisted they all be there, just in case he ever needed them.

And boy, did he need them.

Leaning up against the window, Luke looked down at the town. No wonder there had been no light in his apartment; all of the streetlights were off. Even the twinkling lights perpetually strung around the gazebo were dark. He stared at the town outside his window, wishing he could see someone strolling by ― anybody ― just to let him know he wasn't alone. He wished he could call one of those numbers on his phone, just to hear a voice. He wished he could…

Luke's eyes lifted towards where her house was. He couldn't see it, of course, too many trees and buildings in the way. But it was there. She was there. So close. Still loving him. He found he had no doubts about that, in spite of what she'd done.

Luke wasn't aware he'd made a decision, but he suddenly found himself throwing on clothes, tying his shoes, grabbing his keys. He was down the stairs and starting up his old truck before he even realized what he was intending to do.

His hand hit the gear shift and suddenly déjà vu engulfed him. There'd been another night. Another time when he'd jumped into his truck and raced over to her house. A night when Emily Gilmore had told him he'd won.

But he hadn't won. He hadn't 'won' anything. He'd done nothing but postpone the inevitable.

Reluctantly he took his hand off the lever. Very slowly he reached for the key, turning off the ignition. He sat there for a long, motionless stretch of time, remembering that other night.

He'd been so grateful to have a reason, however flimsy, to go to her. He'd been so thankful to have a way to end their estrangement, whether he completely believed the reason for it or not.

Lorelai had opened the door to him, looking so beautifully wistful it cut straight to his heart. He'd scooped her up and anchored her to him, refusing to let go even for a moment. He'd kissed her and murmured sweet words to her and overpowered her weak protests with desperate lovemaking. Because he didn't want to talk. He was scared to discuss their problems. He didn't want to hear the doubts he feared she had out loud.

After that first night Lorelai hadn't tried to bring up their break-up again. They fell right back into their normal routine, satisfied to just be together again. They didn't discuss if his actions had made Lorelai feel abandoned. They didn't discuss his jealous suspicion of all things Christopher. Whatever soul-searching they should have done was pushed away and ignored.

If he went to her now, he knew it would be the same way. Once again he was desperate. He needed to feel her in his arms so badly that he'd be willing to disregard every hurtful thing just to confirm she was OK. And that…would solve nothing. He already had the proof of that.

Luke pulled the key out of the ignition. He opened the door and slid his feet to the ground. He shoved the lock down with his palm and then slammed the door shut. Leaning back against the truck, he looked up and down the deserted street both ways, as if he really thought traffic was going to be a problem at this early hour of the morning.

He didn't know what the solution was for them. The hurt ran pretty deep for both of them right now. Maybe ― his jaw clenched at the thought ― there wasn't a solution. But the one thing he did know was that running to her now wasn't going to help. Maybe they'd reconcile for the time being, but then what? In a year or two they'd surely reach another impasse. And what would happen if by then they'd be married, or have a kid? Where would that leave them then?

Luke shuffled across the street and opened the door to the diner. Wearily he pulled down a chair from its perch on top of the table and sank tiredly down into it.

He needed to think. He needed a plan. And no matter how much he ached to do it, running to Lorelai without thought wasn't going to work. Not this time. Not if he wanted them to have a real future.

Yawning, Luke realized he was too exhausted and drained by his vivid nightmare to think logically now. He needed to be cautious and careful and wait until he'd had time to plan every step.

But one thing was crystal clear. He _wanted_ them to fix this. He_ did_ want them to have a future.

And he wanted it to be a future that lasted a hell of a lot longer than just the next 13 years.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong> Please don't be mad at me. I tried to warn you at the beginning, remember? I told you I could _not _write them apart. One of the reasons Season 7 drives me insane is because they wasted a whole year when they should have been together. No way could I ever stand to keep them apart for 13 years. So please forgive the 'Dallas'-style solution here, but I really needed Luke to 'wake up' to some truths.

I tried to sneak in a couple of clues in the first chapters, and **jarnac50** picked up on them. (Probably some of the rest of you clever people did too.) I decided she deserved a reward for that, which will be revealed in the last chapter.

And for what it's worth, I'm sad that Lexie and Jeff and the rest of the details from the dream-world don't exist. I loved them too.


	4. Investing in the Future

If anyone ever wanted to know, Luke could describe what it felt like to scramble eggs through a thick layer of Jell-O.

That's what it felt like to him, anyway. He stood over the grill and cooked eggs and flipped pancakes, and he walked them out into the dining room and sat them in front of the familiar townspeople, all the while feeling like a coating of gelatin was insulating him from the bustling real life going on around him.

He struggled through the first hours of his workday, coping with the lack of sleep and the draining heartache that had accompanied his too-realistic dream. His head buzzed with exhaustion and he swore he'd accidentally rubbed his eyes with sandpaper. Each painful blink of his eyes reminded him why those raw tears had been forced out.

In addition to the tiredness, Luke was also fighting with reality. The dream had done such a good job of encasing him in an alternate life that he was now having trouble sifting away what he had only imagined from the factual people living and chattering all around him.

He'd lost the first battle. He was placing Miss Patty's toasted whole-grain bagel in front of her when the sudden remembrance of rose petals and a guy named Fernando overpowered him. Instead of straightening back up, he'd wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze, so relieved was he to see her eating and breathing in his diner once again.

"Why ― why Luke!" she sputtered out, stunned at first. She regained her composure in a blink of an eye. "I always knew it was only a matter of time before my sizeable charms seduced you, you naughty boy!"

Before he could escape from her teasing, her eyes raked over him and she seemed to pick up on his emotional state. Patty's hand gripped his shoulder, keeping him in place for an additional moment.

"It'll get better. You know that, don't you, Sweetheart?" she murmured to him. She patted his cheek kindly, without even a hint of any sexual innuendo. "Just give it some time."

But that was exactly the problem. He didn't want to throw away more time.

Luke nodded to her anyway, grateful for the kind words, and escaped back to the grill before he could behave foolishly in front of anyone else. Cooking was cooking, whether here or in the future, and he thankfully lost himself in pancakes and sunny-side-up eggs.

Sitting at the small table in the diner during the wee hours of the morning had given Luke ample time to analyze the facets of his dream. He'd figured out where his brain had locked on to most of the details. The kitchen duty now just gave him a chance to go over it all again.

He knew there'd been at least one night at Lorelai's spent watching the Daily Show with her and Rory. Rory had found the episode hysterically clever. "You should marry him, you think he's so great!" Lorelai had taunted her daughter about the show's host. "Maybe I will," Rory had replied coolly. "Except that Jon Stewart's probably too old for me. Maybe I'll wait until a younger guy takes over."

In his mind, Luke bid Jeff a reluctant farewell. Knowing Rory was being well cared for had been a comforting thought.

Luke also recalled that Anna had recently mentioned her mother's poor health and a possible need for an extended trip to New Mexico to check on her. Apparently that casual comment had been enough for his subconscious to add in the worry that he'd have to leave Stars Hollow and move out west in order to keep seeing April.

Through no fault of his own, he'd once overheard a whispered conversation between Lane and Zach after they'd returned from their honeymoon regarding failed birth control. He'd since gathered from their giddy relief that all was well on that front, but he fought the desire the rest of the day to ask them if twins ran in either of their families.

Continuing with the baby theme, his own flaky sister had confided in him that she and T.J. were trying to have one. Luke had tried his best to suppress that horrifying thought, but apparently his unconscious mind had remembered.

Even Lexie was nothing more than an adorable toddler who had caught his eye in a baby shampoo commercial aired between baseball innings. He saw it the week before he and Lorelai went down in flames. He remembered he'd paused while bringing the bottle of beer up to his lips, gazing at the cutie on the screen and thinking that if they'd ever have a little girl, she'd look just like that.

Now the thought of the little girl they'd never have caused a dull pain behind his bloodshot eyes. Luke fumbled for the bottle of extra-strength aspirin he kept on top of the refrigerator.

He washed the pills down with a quick gulp of water, his stomach protesting at the intrusion. He hadn't been able to eat anything since his return to the present day.

Granting himself a well-earned break, Luke collapsed onto a stool and laid his arms on the table. He buried his head in his arms while he waited for the pills to work.

The fate he'd imagined for Lorelai needed no soul-searching explanation at all. Hell, he hadn't even bothered giving her a different disease than the one that had robbed him of his mother. The fear that he was just like his dad and would also some day lose the woman he loved had been with him since he was twelve and had walked in on his father giving in to a private moment of grief. Ever since, when someone told him how much he had in common with William Danes, he'd worried if fate had the same sorrow in store for him.

Luke chanced giving a rub to his stinging eyes. He wondered how many people had glanced at him this morning and had assumed he'd gotten drunk last night. The idea certainly sounded appealing now. Just because he knew where all of the odd details of the dream had come from didn't make them any easier to acknowledge. The dream had sharpened all of his regrets to a fine point, and dulling them back down again with a wash of alcohol seemed an attractive solution.

But it was only 9:30 in the morning and Luke let that idea float away. He stood up with a sigh, his instinctive responsibility taking hold. He'd keep making the pancakes and then the burgers and eventually the dinner specials as this interminable day wore on.

He couldn't help that today everything would be served with a side of regret.

* * *

><p>With a huge sense of relief Luke shut the door to his apartment, resisting the urge to lay his face against the cool, frosted glass. His day of work was finally done and he could once again barricade himself away from all of the nosy inhabitants of the town. He could stop being constantly on guard; he could stop walking that shaky line between what he knew was real and the fake dream world that was still trying to reel him in.<p>

He'd only slipped up once during the afternoon.

Taylor Doose had come in for a late lunch, ordering a house salad and an iced tea. Luke had served it to him with the dressing on the side, taking a moment to explain to Taylor why that was healthier.

"In fact, if you're trying to watch your cholesterol, there's lots of ways I could help," Luke had offered to the increasingly alarmed shop owner. "Just let me know." To cement the proposal in a friendly way, Luke's hand came down heartily against Taylor's red and white striped back.

Taylor had jumped from his seat and had whirled around, chagrined. "Just what's your game here, Luke?" he demanded.

"Game?" Luke had shrugged, uncomprehending.

Taylor's arms reached behind himself, scrabbling over his back. "What? You put a 'kick me' sign or something on me?"

"No, Taylor, there's no game," Luke muttered, annoyed that his good intentions were being misconstrued.

"I'm sure." Taylor shoved the straw boater back on his head and pulled out his wallet, throwing some bills on the table. "You just watch yourself, young man! I'm on to you!" And with a final sniff of outrage, Taylor had huffed across the room and out the door and back into his own business, where he continued to glare at Luke through the glass in the wall for the rest of the afternoon.

That incident had served to make Luke even more cautious for the rest of the day.

Now that he was up in his quiet apartment, in the place that he'd longed for all day, he realized that he had another problem.

The apartment was silent and still and offered no distractions. He could sit up here and obsess over the dream and his regrets and his fears. He could work himself up and spend yet another sleepless night and be no closer to any sort of a solution.

Luke turned on the television but soon found that did no good at all. Nothing on any of the channels was compelling enough to stop the flood of thoughts unleashed by last night's bad dream.

He needed something that would require all of his brain function. Something that he was forced to pay strict attention to, with no mind wandering permitted.

Something like…His eyes searched the apartment and landed on the desk. Something like numbers, he thought with satisfaction.

In short order Luke was settled at the ancient desk, the old-fashioned ledger and a stack of accounts payable spread in front of him. He knew he was denying the future, still keeping his books by hand instead of on a computer, but there was something innately satisfying to him about marking the numbers down in the columns like this. He liked the sound of the adding machine as it churned out the paper roll with his calculations. He liked the discipline of writing the numbers neatly in their rows. He was soothed by the fact that numbers were numbers and they couldn't lie. Add them up, subtract them, it didn't matter. Past, present or future, numbers stayed the same.

For the best part of an hour, Luke found solace in paying his bills. His pen scratched and the pile of paper to his left grew smaller and smaller. So did his bank account.

As his task grew to an end, Luke noticed how messy his desktop had gotten. He pulled out papers and files, coupons and flyers, and tried to spend a few minutes getting them into some sort of order.

He pulled over the trashcan and dumped most of the accumulated paper into it. Just in the nick of time he recognized the bank's return address stamped on one envelope and snatched it back. Opening it, he found that it was the quarterly report on what he and old Mr. Chapman at First National laughingly referred to as his 'investment portfolio.'

Luke's eyes scanned quickly over the summary. The numbers looked bigger on the ending column to the right than they did on the starting one on the left, so he figured that was good. With little more thought he pulled open a desk drawer and found the file folder for the report.

His hand smoothed down the creases in the paper as he tucked it away in the folder. He snorted a private laugh, thinking about telling his small investments to sleep tight and grow up to be big, strong investments, to take care of him in his old age.

The word stuck in his head, even when he started to sort through a new stack of paper.

_Investments_, he thought, turning the word over and over in his mind. _Investing. Investing in businesses. Investing with money. Investing with time. Investing in…_

He stopped abruptly, his breath catching in his chest.

…_people._

Luke stood up, for some reason feeling excited, but at the same time afraid that his excitement would derail the struggling idea that was almost at the surface of his brain.

He closed his eyes and forced himself to repeat his thoughts.

_You invested your money. You invested your time. You invested in people. You invested with your…_

His eyes flew open.

…_heart._

Luke swallowed hard, his hands flattening down the stacks of paper on the desk.

You stood firm on your investments. You kept them and nurtured them, and eventually they'd pay off. You didn't abandon them when times got bad, because you'd need them in the future. That, after all, was what investing was all about.

He let the excitement flow over him now. This could work. This could be just the angle he needed to craft a solution.

Luke's hands patted frantically at his pockets, feeling for his cell phone. He needed to call one of those numbers so carefully stowed away for him there. He knew just who to call. He knew who would be willing to help him put this evolving plan into action.

Plus he wanted to make sure that she and Jackson had no plans to move to Sandusky, Ohio and open a winery/restaurant combo in the near future.

* * *

><p>"Right on time!" Sookie called out to him. She was standing at the top of the porch stairs at the Dragonfly, waiting on him. Her hand impatiently motioned for him to hurry up.<p>

Luke hustled up the steps and rushed to follow her across the porch. He was glad that she was hurrying him, giving him no chance to chicken out. He was glad there was no spare moment to look longingly at the spot where Lorelai had finally stood still long enough for him to kiss her. He'd wasted enough time. They both had.

Sookie glanced back over her shoulder as she efficiently escorted him down the short hall to Lorelai's office. "Not only are you punctual, but you look really nice, too," she said.

"Well, you know," Luke muttered, trying not to let his nerves show in front of her. "If I'm here for a business meeting, I thought I should look the part." He raked one hand through his hair while the other gave a yank at the navy tie that felt like it was choking him.

Sookie's hand had been moving upwards to knock on the door, but she pulled it back at the last minute. Instead she turned to regard Luke, her usually cheery demeanor dissipating into something more solemn. In a flash Luke understood that she was apprehensive about this meeting, too.

"She's coping," Sookie confided to him, her head indicating Lorelai's door. "I mean, she's a long way from happy. She's not good. But she's coping, you know? I'd hate to be the one to do something that makes it worse." Her eyes narrowed and lost their typical warmth as they fixed on him.

"Sookie." Luke sighed. "Do you really think this could get any worse?"

"Yes." Sookie's eyelids blinked rapidly as she momentarily took on her friend's heartbreak. "Yes, I do."

Luke turned his head and stared at Lorelai's door, trying to get his thoughts together enough to convince her loyal sentry to let him through. "Look, Sookie, I'm not here to pick a fight with her. I don't want to hurt her more or make her feel any worse. I just want to talk to her for a little bit. I just want to see if there's any chance at all that we can ―" He stumbled a bit then, not sure how to describe it. "Make this better," he finally suggested, feeling wholly inadequate. If he couldn't even start to explain it to Sookie, how in the world could he ever get Lorelai to understand?

Sookie quickly looked him up and down and apparently believed his sincerity because her smile came back, even though it seemed to be a tentative one. "OK," she allowed. "But if this goes south, I'm comin' after you, just so you know."

She turned at once and knocked three times briskly against the door. Without waiting for a reply she turned the knob and pushed the door open. "Lorelai, your 11:00 is here," Sookie announced in a sing-song voice. She then stood to the side and motioned for Luke to step in.

Lorelai was behind the desk with her back to them. She had on a sleeveless white top and she was scrambling to put a pale pink jacket on over it. Her left arm was still struggling into the sleeve while her right hand pushed under the hair caught at her neck and scooped it out from under the jacket's collar. The sight of all of those dark curls cascading down her back almost made Luke dizzy with relief.

Luke didn't realize Sookie had ducked out until he heard the door click shut behind her.

Lorelai was turning to greet who she thought was her guest, one of those smiles calculated to charm attached to her lips. It was the one she usually used for business meetings. "Hi," she said smoothly, bringing up her hand to offer a shake. "I'm Lorelai Gil―"

She saw then that it was him and she froze in place. The color left her face and her mouth dropped open in distress, her hand remaining hanging limply out in space.

Luke couldn't stand to see her suffering more because of him. He stepped over and reached for her cold hand. "Luke," he said simply, finishing the introduction she'd started. "Luke Danes." He brought his other hand up, clasping her hand between both of his. "The real one, I mean. Not the guy who's been running around town doing all of the crazy stuff for the past six months."

That snapped Lorelai out of her trance. She drew in a sharp breath at the same time she pulled her hand out of his grasp. She backed away, folding her arms tightly over her chest.

"Luke." Her voice sounded like it was torture to get his name to come out. "I ― I had no idea ―" She broke off abruptly, wincing as her hip smacked into the edge of her desk. She leaned back against it weakly. "All Sookie told me was that someone wanted to talk to us about investments at 11:00."

Luke hoped his face looked reassuring, because that was what he was striving for. "That's because that's what I asked her to say," he explained. He smiled as best he could and moved to sit down on the couch in front of her desk.

"Oh!" Lorelai was nodding madly, trying to look like she was following this. "Well then, she did good, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did." Luke sat up a little further, clasping his hands around his knees. "I was afraid that if you knew it was me, you'd say no," he admitted nervously.

For the first time Lorelai relaxed, if only a smidgeon. She looked at him full in the face and graced him with a sad smile. "I'd see you anytime, Luke." She moved behind her desk and sat down heavily in her chair. "I hope you know that."

"Thank you," Luke said politely, not sure how to segue into what he really wanted to discuss.

"You're welcome," Lorelai replied automatically, and then she gave him the opening he needed. "So what _did_ you want to talk about?"

"Well, Sookie got that right, too. I do want to talk to you about investments."

"Investments?" Lorelai couldn't have looked more surprised. Her disbelief almost made her laugh. "Why would you want―" Her face went slack suddenly again. She placed her hands flat against her desk and lowered her head, nearly doing a face-plant. She groaned. "Of course. Your Dragonfly money. You want it back. I should have thought."

"No, Lorelai ―"

"We ― we can do it. Probably." She was doing that manic nodding thing again, while desperately looking around the room. "You remember that one of the first pieces of business advice you gave me was to hire a good accountant, and I did. Oh, well, you know that. You've met her. Ann, remember? And I'm sure ― I'm sure there's a way that she can juggle some money around so we can pay you back. Not all at once. But payments. I'm sure we can make payments. Just let me call her ―"

"Lorelai, that's not what I mean!" Luke spoke a little sharply, just to get her attention. "I don't want the Dragonfly money back. That's not what I'm talking about."

"But then what ―" Lorelai suddenly went very still and her face, if possible, got even paler. "Oh," she breathed out. "The house. You want the money you put into the house. And that's fine. That's fair. I mean, I totally understand, Luke, I do. You deserve to get that money back, absolutely. I just ― I mean, I'm not sure how I could manage to come up with it. Unless…Whoa. Brainstorm. That's it. I could sell the house. I could sell it and pay you back. It wouldn't be a quick way to get the money, but it would―"

"Lorelai!" He leaned forward and rapped against the desk, trying to stop her rambling and get her to look at him. "Do you honestly think I'd make you sell your house? Throw you and Rory out in the street? Do you really think I'm that petty and vindictive?"

Her sapphire eyes looked at him, chastised. "No. I don't." She took a moment, chewing her lips. "But you deserve to be," she almost whispered.

Luke sighed gustily. Somehow he needed to get this conversation on track. Letting her mind jump from one wrong conclusion to the next was nerve-wracking for both of them.

"It's true I gave you money for the Dragonfly," Luke began. "And we both put money into the renovations at the house. But that's not the only investing I did. I invested in you, Lorelai. You, personally. I put my heart and everything else I had into the idea of you and me. I thought we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. I thought it was the soundest investment I could ever make. I thought we'd have this huge pay-off in the future."

"Me too." She pressed a finger above her upper lip, and he hated the way her hand was shaking. "I'm sorry it got so messed up. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Lorelai. I'm sorry I forgot the most important thing about investing." Luke sat forward another few inches, barely perching on the edge of the sofa, so anxious to explain this clearly to her. "The same night that I told you to get an accountant, I also told you I was no financial genius. As long as you're paying the bills and can put some aside for later, I figure you're doing OK. But the one thing that old Mr. Chapman at the bank has drilled into me about investing is that when the stock market tanks you don't sell and take the loss. Instead you sit tight. You hold on. Eventually the market rights itself again and it all evens out. But I completely forgot that with you. Do you see?"

Lorelai bit her lip and shook her head.

"We were doing OK, you and I. We were investing in us as a couple. We were paying the bills, you know? We were putting some aside for a rainy day. But we ran into some rough patches. Rory dropped out of school. You didn't want to pick a wedding date. And then April showed up out of the blue. I see now that I should have been putting even more into our account, to make sure we were strong, but instead I stopped investing in us at all. I guess I assumed that the extra we had in the account would tide us over. But when you realized I wasn't contributing anything, you stopped, too. So we skated by for a couple of months, while our account got lower and lower. It was like both of us were ignoring the bank statements because we didn't want to see how bad it actually was."

She nodded slowly, understanding and agreeing with him so far.

Luke drew in a deep breath, hating to broach this next part. "And then the night came when you desperately needed to make a withdrawal. You came to me, only…there wasn't anything left in the account at all."

Lorelai breathed in sharply, held it, and then exhaled. "No," she murmured. "There wasn't."

Luke nodded now, looking fixedly at the floor. "You were flat broke and you thought it'd be OK if you'd go to a friend for a loan."

"_No!"_ Lorelai jumped up from her chair, sending it flying back against the wall. She was frantically shaking her head. "You are _so_ wrong! That is not why ― I did not go there with the intention ― I never…I never meant…" He waited while she slowly ran out of steam.

"You went to someone you trusted as a friend for a loan. For some sympathy. For some…warmth." Luke said it as calmly as he could. "You were upset and you skipped reading the fine print. You didn't realize that the interest rate to pay back the loan would be so steep."

After a long moment of absolute silence, Lorelai cupped a hand over her cheek. She leaned into it, slowly closing her eyes. She breathed deeply several times before she opened them. Then she turned and grasped her runaway chair, tugging it back in place before she sat down. Leaning her elbows onto the desk, she buried her face into her hands. "Yes," she finally said, the word coming out all raspy. She cleared her throat and continued. "You know I never read the fine print." At last she raised her head and looked at Luke. "I wish like everything a couple of goons would have popped up with a steel pipe and broke my kneecaps instead."

"I don't." He met her gaze. "Your legs are show-stoppers."

She inhaled another one of those sharp breaths. "That night, I never meant…I had to pretend you didn't exist at all, you know? That was the only way I could handle you not wanting me. But I never, ever meant…The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. But I did of course. I hurt both of us. I'm so…unbelievably sorry, Luke. I hope you know how sorry I am."

Luke gave her a moment to dam up the tears he could see glittering in her eyes, and he tucked her words away to examine in more detail later. It did hurt and he couldn't pretend otherwise, but he felt it was better today to move on to something more constructive.

"Do you remember one time you told me you saw lots of Dr. Phil books in our future?" he asked her when he thought she'd regained her composure.

"Uh, sure," she said with a shrug, almost chuckling again at his abrupt change of topic.

"Well, I think we've moved completely beyond whatever advice that balding blowhard could give us. I think we need more assistance than any self-help tape could provide. If we want to fix this, Lorelai, I think we need to see someone who does this for a living."

Her deep blue eyes were drilling into his. "Wait. Are you saying ―" She broke off and rubbed at her forehead. "God, I'm getting such a headache," she muttered. "Are you saying we should go see a counselor or something?"

"Yes." He nodded firmly.

"Together?" she asked for clarification, her voice wobbling.

"Yes," he confirmed again.

"_Why?" _she demanded of him.

"Because the way I see it, we have two fundamental problems. We don't trust each other and we don't communicate with each other at all about the things that matter the most."

"Well, of course you don't trust me now," Lorelai said, with a look that said _duh_. "Why would you?"

"I'm not just talking about now, I'm talking about before," Luke insisted.

Lorelai instantly looked devastated. "You didn't trust me before?"

"It wasn't so much that I didn't trust you," Luke tried to explain. "I didn't trust _him_. I didn't trust you with him. I mean, I could see it in him. I could see that he was still in love with you. And I knew what I'd do if the situation was reversed. I knew what lengths I'd go to if I was the one trying to get you back. So I never trusted him for a minute, which meant I didn't trust you to be around him or talk to him or even think about him. But I never talked to you about how I felt or what my worries were. Instead I tried to lay down the law and order you not to see him."

"But ― Rory!" Lorelai protested. "I couldn't just completely cut him out of my life, Luke!"

Luke held up his hand. "I know that, believe me. Especially after I had April to think about, and had to deal with Anna…I should have talked to you about Christopher then. I understood your situation so much better then. I should have used what I was going through to discuss the whole thing with you. But I didn't. I didn't talk to you at all. About anything."

"I trusted you completely with Anna," Lorelai argued, still missing his point.

"I know that," Luke agreed quickly. "But I'm not talking about that. You shouldn't have trusted me in our relationship. I let you down twice, Lorelai. If you trust me after that, you need your head examined."

"Well, good thing we're talking about going to a shrink, then," Lorelai snapped. She took a calming breath. "But I _do_ trust you, Luke. I've always trusted you."

"I don't know why," he said shortly. "On our first date I gave you such a pretty speech about being all in and committed. Then the first hint of trouble comes, and what do I do? I say I can't handle it and I walk away. It wasn't even your fault, Lorelai, and I walked away! I wouldn't even listen to you!"

Her eyes welled up again and she looked aside, shaking her head. "I hadn't given you much of a reason to stick with me, Luke."

"But that's just the thing. I'd already invested in us, and I'd told you that. And instead of fighting to keep that investment I was ready to walk away and give up. When we got back together we _still_ didn't talk about our problems. We didn't talk about Christopher or your family's expectations or even how we felt about each other or what we wanted for the future. We just coasted."

Lorelai sighed. She smiled, but it was a feeble one, not the spunky one he thought she was aiming for. "You know, you're basically criticizing the one thing I always thought I was really good at."

"You talk more than you breathe, Lorelai," he agreed. "But most of what I know about the important things in your life I've picked up through osmosis, not because you've actually told me. Have you ever told me straight out about what those years apart from your parents were like? Or why you left them in the first place? Have you ever talked to me about Chris at all? Or Max, or anyone else for that matter? Or even about how you felt when Rory walked out on you and went to live in Hartford?"

"You're a fine one to talk!" Her eyes were blazing. "Pull up a chair, buddy! I'd love to finally hear an explanation about the Nicole fiasco! And I bet the Anna story is equally fascinating! Come on, let's hear it!"

"That's what I'm saying!" Luke finally exploded in exasperation. "We don't talk! We don't talk about any of the really important stuff, and we never have! I don't know if we even know how. I think we're scared to even try, but if we somehow want a life together, we need to learn."

Lorelai quietly sniffed, studying her fingernails. "You mean, important stuff like when a daughter suddenly materializes on Main Street, or something like that?"

Luke felt a quick squeeze of guilt across his chest. He leaned forward, putting his hand over hers. "That's exactly what I mean." When she looked up at him he shook his head. "That's such a huge regret, Lorelai. If I had some good reason why I didn't tell you right away, maybe I wouldn't feel so bad, but I still don't understand why I kept it from you. I guess I just didn't know how to tell you. I'm sorry, though. I'm so deeply sorry."

She left one hand under his but pulled out the other one and held it over her mouth, trying to hold the line on the quivering it was doing.

"You were my fiancée, Lorelai. Me keeping something so important from you was just inexcusable."

"You know…" She sighed again, exhaling air pulled from someplace deep and dark within her. "I somehow made peace with that. I knew you were scared to tell me, and I dealt with that. It was the rest that killed me. When you didn't want me with her ― that's what broke my heart. I understood ― I _knew_ that if you didn't want me to be with her, you were never going to be with me either."

Pain shot through Luke and he squeezed her hand hard, trying to cope until it passed. "Oh, Lorelai. That's not ― I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that."

"I know," she said, blinking hard. "I do know that. But it still hurts."

"Geez." He took his hand from hers and rubbed his face. "This is what I mean. We need somebody to show us how to do this. We need to learn to talk to each other, even if we're scared to do it. We need to figure out why we keep all of this stuff buried."

"And maybe," Lorelai suggested, "we need to learn how to fight better. Instead of just saying stuff to be hurtful, maybe we can find ways to express how we're really feeling."

"Not just witty one-liners?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Exactly." She really smiled at him. "You drama queen."

"And maybe…maybe there's a way that we can talk about all of this, and somehow start to heal. Maybe there's a way to accelerate it," he suggested hopefully.

"Speed up the healing? Like a special antiseptic cream or something?"

"Maybe." He shrugged, smiling too.

Lorelai stared at him. "I'm curious, Luke. Where is this all coming from?"

"Time travel," he said flippantly. The dream was staying locked away.

Her eyebrows arched. "Really? Found a temporal anomaly, did you?"

"Something like that."

"Be careful the time cops don't come after you." She paused, considering her words. "Saw the future, huh?"

Luke gave a brief nod.

"And things weren't good?"

"Things were good." He thought about Rory's happiness and April's confidence. His heart pinged with another aftershock of grief as he thought about Lexie. "Some things were really good. They just weren't…right."

"And you think something like us going to a counselor will fix those future things that weren't right."

"It's better than doing nothing and then finding out that the next 13 years have been an absolute waste," he spat out bitterly.

"That's a long time," Lorelai commented. "13 years and we were still fighting?"

"No." Luke shifted, trying to find comfort in his seating if nowhere else. "13 years since we'd seen each other."

She looked at him soberly. "That sounds awful. These past two weeks without you have been bad enough. I don't even want to think about going thirteen years."

Luke sighed and sat up, once again trying to come up with an explanation. "Both of us have been through some bad stuff in our lives. You had all sorts of troubles with your parents, and I know it's not great now, but it's better than it was. You and Rory had your falling out. And I know you've had guys that you moped around about. But the thing is, you get to be our age and you understand that old saying about how 'time heals' is actually true. You go to bed and you get up and you work day after day, and one day you get up and it doesn't hurt so much anymore. You cope and you adjust and you move on. I know we're in bad shape right now. We're mad and we're hurt and maybe it sounds so tempting to leave and walk away. But I don't want to wake up one day and find out I've made peace with what happened, only to discover it's too late. I don't want to get cheated out of the time we should have had."

Lorelai had been listening intently, a slight frown on her face as she tried to understand him. "So you're saying, let's get some help to start the healing process faster. So we don't lose so much time."

"Pretty much."

"Luke." Lorelai was shaking her head. "You're really willing to do this?"

"It was my idea, wasn't it?"

"If you're serious," Lorelai said slowly, putting her hands palms up, "I know somebody."

"You do? Who?"

"Her name's Lynnie. Um, Carolyn, actually. I forget her last name, but I can find out. She's someone my parents know. She was…She was at the dinner that night. They…They were trying to set her up with Christopher. She's a psychologist. She's…" Lorelai stopped and fiddled with a pen on her desk. "She's a very good listener," she added morosely.

Luke felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "What dinner?"

Lorelai looked so sad. "Friday night dinner at my parents. The night that I…You know. That night."

"_He_ was there that night?"

"Yeah." Lorelai cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I guess Mom decided her Machiavellian schemes weren't ever going to work on us, so she decided to do try matchmaking with Chris instead, but he and Lynnie didn't sync. I sort of threw myself in-between them, to help with the awkwardness, and I think all three of us sort of had a good time, in spite of everything. I think that's why, later, I drove to see him, because he'd been such a good friend earlier, but ― " Lorelai broke off her stream-of-consciousness babble abruptly. "Uh, never ― never mind. I talked to Lynnie after the dinner. I laid down in the backseat of her car and talked my fool head off," she said bitterly.

"What did you talk about?"

Lorelai snorted slightly. "Us, of course. And now that I'm thinking about it, maybe she isn't such a good choice. She's the one who encouraged me to tell you what I wanted. That didn't work out so well. Maybe we'd be better off picking somebody at random from the Yellow Pages."

"No, call her. Make the appointment. If it turns out we don't like her, we'll find somebody else. But if you've already made a start with her, we might as well continue."

"OK. If you're absolutely sure." Lorelai still seemed doubtful.

"I'm absolutely sure." He wanted her to see that he was.

Lorelai brought her hands together and then started to wring them apprehensively. "You know, we've done an awful lot of talking here and very successfully managed to skirt any mention of the 'L' word."

"'L' word?" For a minute Luke thought it had something to do with his mythical woodworking shop.

"'Love,' Luke." Lorelai looked as ill at ease as he'd ever seen her. "I can't imagine that there's much love in your heart for me right now."

"Lorelai," he barked out in a irritated growl, "don't you know that I ―" He cut himself off hastily, remembering. No, she didn't know. That was how this whole problem got started. "I do love you," he told her, striving to make his voice gentle. "I'm mad at you; I'm frustrated at you, you've completely torn me apart. But the love hasn't disappeared because of that. It's still there. That's not going to change. That's why I think it's worth fighting to get us back on the right track."

"Oh." She was blinking hard again and not looking at him. "That's really good to hear."

He pulled up his courage. "I hate to ask. But you've ― you've been with him. I don't want to presume here. Maybe you've changed how you feel ―"

"No, Luke, no. I haven't changed. Nothing's changed here at all. _Nothing_." Her voice was sure and not distraught. "I _love _you. I do. That ― that night ― it wasn't love with him. It was tequila, and…and panic. And…" She rubbed a hand above her heart. "Emptiness. I don't know if you can believe me, but I hope you can. I told Lynnie that you were the only one I could ever visualize a future with. I still want that future so much, Luke. I'll do whatever it takes to get us back to it."

Some of the weight of the world eased up from off his shoulders and the air seemed to move easier in and out of his lungs. He felt so much lighter that he sprang up from the couch. "Call her then. Make the appointment." He started to move towards the door. "Whenever it is, I'll be there. Just let me know the time and where to show up."

"It's a deal." Lorelai got up too and moved slowly around the desk, her arms crossed. There was a faint, still disbelieving smile on her face.

Luke started to open the door, but he paused, leaning against it. "You know I always want to fix things, so I'm really tempted to go and grab April right now, and bring her back here. I understand that I put us on this path by keeping you away from her, so I keep thinking I could solve things by doing the opposite now. Probably the last thing I want to do is to agree with Anna about anything, but maybe she's right. Maybe until we get us straightened out, April should stay out of this. I just don't want you to think that I'm keeping her away as a punishment, or to hurt you or anything like that."

"No, Luke, you're absolutely right. Lord knows, I don't want to agree with Anna either, but in this case, she is right. Let's work on us now, and add April in when we're stronger." Lorelai tried to nod at him encouragingly. "But she's a great kid, Luke. I do want to get to know her and spend time with her. When we're ready for that."

There still seemed to be so much to say, but Luke sensed it was time for him to go for today. "Take the first appointment she's got available," he requested, and once more started to open the door.

"Luke." Lorelai's voice was completely choked, and when he turned to look at her, she had three fingers of her right hand pressed over her lips, trying to stop them from trembling. She was blinking very hard, and she raised her shoulders up and down, looking apologetic. "I just want to thank you for this. Never in a million years did I ever think you'd give me a second chance. It's like in one of those fairy tales, where a genie pops out and grants you one last wish ―"

"Don't _say_ that!" he all but yelled at her, desperate to keep the Lorelai from his bad dream separate from the real her.

"Sorry," she whispered, not understanding his annoyance and that apology finally broke through the defenses she'd held in place until then. Her face crumpled and tears spilled over her lower lashes. She brought up her hands to cover her face and half-turned, trying to shield him from her tears.

He couldn't stand it. Her tears had always put him in agony, and seeing her cry today put him in a very special hell.

"Lorelai, don't." He kicked the door shut with his foot and reached for her at the same time. His arms remembered how to gather her up; how to cradle her against him. "Please don't cry."

He thought it felt like her sobs were going to tear her apart. She reached up with her hands and grasped his shirt collar, pulling him closer.

She sobbed against his chest and he kissed her temple; her forehead. "Shush, Sweetheart. It's all right. We're going to fix this. It's going to be OK."

Lorelai's back continued to shake, but her sobs lessened. Luke rubbed her shoulders; the back of her head. "We're going to make this OK," he whispered. He moved some of her luscious hair back behind her shoulder. While doing so, her dangling earring brushed against his knuckle.

Luke froze in place. He knew. Without even looking, he knew which earrings she was wearing today. The dream world was bleeding through to this life and he couldn't take the chance of losing her.

He crushed her to him. He knew she was probably having trouble breathing, but he couldn't let her go. His eyes burned as a few of his owned tears trickled over his smoothly shaved cheeks and joined hers staining the front of his dress shirt.

Putting a hand under her chin, he raised her face so he could see her. "You can't ever cut your hair! Do you hear me? Never!" And then, to make her understand how much he cared, he kissed her

He'd worried about what it would be like, to kiss her again. He worried that it would be strained, or sad in some way, or just plain weird. He shouldn't have wasted his time. Everything combined in the kiss, all of the new pain and all of the old hurt, but all of the love that was still there between them managed to sweeten it to perfection. He could feel all of their years of friendship, as well as the smoldering desire they'd done their best to ignore for so many years. Their past was there. Their future was there. And when it ended, it was just the two of them there together, safe in each other's arms.

Lorelai pulled away just enough to wipe a shaky hand under her eyes. "I can't ever cut my hair?" she questioned him skeptically.

"No," Luke stated, prepared for the teasing.

"So are we talking Amish here? Or some bizarre cult where I have to follow ten steps behind you and never wear makeup?"

"I just like your hair long," he sighed, instinctively running his hand through the dark curls.

"I see." Lorelai looked at him solemnly. "Well, what if I promise to put some of my new communication skills to work and talk to you first if I want to cut my hair?"

"That would probably work," Luke conceded.

"OK. So, long hair. Anything else on your list of demands?"

Oh, was there.

"You're eating better," Luke informed her. "We're throwing out all of that processed junk in your cupboards. Anything made from chemicals with sixteen syllables is getting tossed. You're coming to the diner and I'm cooking you real food. And that includes real vegetables and real fruit. Say goodbye to red meat."

"Now, come on!"

"Lorelai, I'm not going to a psychologist and working this hard to keep you in my life only to have your poor eating habits mess this up in the end. We're getting you as healthy as possible. That's non-negotiable!"

She looked at him hard, studying him. He felt like she could see the fears he wasn't voicing. Finally she gave a little nod and stretched up, placing a kiss on the very corner of his mouth. He thought she was still too timid to kiss him full on the mouth. He turned his head and kissed her cheek, continuing to hold her close.

"I'm not eating vegetables with weird names," she grumbled, trying to save face.

"Weird names?"

"Rutabaga. Kohlrabi."

Luke grinned, feeling even more of his life slip back into place. "We can probably make some compromises."

"OK." She sighed again ― a happy sigh, though, he thought. "Any other terms I need to be aware of?"

"Yeah. Um, one thing." He felt silly bringing this up, but he couldn't let it go. He stood up straighter and tried to sound confident. "Our first daughter. Her name is going to be Lexie."

He felt Lorelai gasp and lose her balance in his arms, and he tightened his grip to keep her upright.

"Our daughter?" she questioned uncertainly.

"Our daughter," he said, completely positive.

"We're…We're having a daughter?"

"Yep," he told her.

"And…her name's Lexie?"

"Yes," he replied, never more certain of anything in his life.

"Oh." Lorelai paused a moment, chewing her lip as she thought. "I kind of like the sound of it. Lexie," she said slowly, trying it out. "It's an 'L' name. I guess it could work."

"Good," Luke said, relieved at her reaction.

"So is it short for Alexis or Alexandria or something?"

"Um…" Luke frowned. "I have no idea."

Lorelai nodded, letting him off the hook. "Well, I like it too. We'll put it on the list."

"There's a list?"

"There's always a list," Lorelai gravely told him.

"OK," he said, with a chuckle. Then he sighed regretfully. "I should probably go. We probably both need to get back to work."

"There you go, being all sensible again."

"You'll set the appointment?" He felt the need to stress that one more time while walking to the door.

"I'll call first thing," Lorelai promised. "Hey, Luke?"

He turned back to her again.

"This was probably the best talk we've ever had."

"The first of many," he predicted, buoyed up with optimism.

"I hope so." She watched him open the door again. "Hey, Luke?"

He shook his head, laughing as he turned around to see her again. Her face was happy, but clouded.

"You know, there's no guarantee that when the time comes I'll be able to get pregnant."

"I know that. There's always plants. It'll be OK."

"And if I do get pregnant, there's no guarantee that it'll be a girl."

"I know that too," he assured her. "Boys would be fine."

She nodded, truly happy now. "But you know what? Maybe someday Rory will have a baby girl. _She _could name her Lexie!"

With those words everything in the world shook itself out and things settled into place just exactly the way they were always meant to be.

Luke abandoned his quest to get out of the door and again crossed over to Lorelai. Long ago he'd given his heart to her and he knew now that she still held it safely for him. He kissed her softly, at last reaping the benefits of that wise investment.

"That," he said with the conviction of someone who has seen the future, "would be absolutely perfect."


	5. Epilogue: The Real Thirteen Years

**Author's Notes:** We've reached the end of another story here. It's made me so happy that you've embraced this tale just the way I did when it I first imagined it. I'm really glad I finally let it out of my computer and let it roam free. A big thanks goes to **Jarnac50**, who graciously turned a blind eye to the real reason for her 'prize' and offered up some wonderfully creative names for two new characters you'll be meeting in this chapter.

See you at the next story!

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue: The Real Thirteen Years<strong>

Bright October sunlight splashed through the energy-efficient windows of the workshop. Luke crossed the room, squinting momentarily against the glare, and pushed one window up to allow the crisp fall air into the space. He no longer needed the extra ventilation to help him breathe through the sawdust, thanks to the recent addition of a dust-collection system, but he knew the fresh air would help to keep him focused on this afternoon's task.

Before firing up the planer and picking up the old board he was planning on sending through it, Luke reached around his neck and found the earplugs hanging there. Lorelai had recently started insisting he wear them out in the shop, and he had to admit she was probably right. Although he might not actually tell her that, he thought to himself, grinning smugly.

His hearing protectively muffled, he put on his safety glasses before flipping the switch to start up the planer. He picked up the weathered board and started to guide it to the opening on the machine.

Right then a ghostly hand tapped his shoulder and Luke felt like he jumped at least a foot in the air.

"Geez, April!" he yelled, loud enough to be heard over the earplugs and the noise of the planer.

He dropped the board and turned off the machine, yanking the earplugs out as he turned to face his grinning daughter. "How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me like that?"

April's eyes glinted with happy mischief. "Sorry, Dad," she tried to say meekly. "I just wanted to say bye before I left."

Luke sighed, his displeasure at her antics evaporating just as usual. He could never stay irritated at April. Every time he looked at her something proud and fierce shot through his heart, and his gratitude at being the father of this fine young woman simply cancelled out whatever tricks she might have played.

April came close to looking him in the eye. She'd suddenly shot up the year she turned 15, ending up an inch taller than Lorelai. The two of them often went shopping together, commiserating over finding long-enough pants and narrow-enough shoes.

"Let me check the car before you take off," Luke suggested.

"There's no need," April insisted, shaking her head. She'd recently cut her curly hair very short, and even Luke had to admit that the result had been spectacular. Her dark hair now dipped and swirled around her forehead and ears, making her look grown-up and showing off her dark eyes to perfection. "You checked everything when I was here last week, and the most driving I've done is the 30 miles between Stars Hollow and home. Trust me, the car's fine."

"You're probably right," Luke had to grudgingly admit.

"And if not, you can check it Wednesday night."

"What do you mean?" Luke gave her a clueless look. "We're seeing you Wednesday night?"

April's mouth dropped open. "Dad!" she complained, punching his arm. "Wednesday night! Remember? You're coming over to meet Brad!"

Luke frowned heartily, really committing to looking stumped. "That's_ this_ Wednesday night?"

"_Yes,_ that's this ―" April suddenly stopped herself. "You're teasing me."

"Yep." Luke was now the one grinning.

April muttered something under her breath, looking down at the wooden floor. Then she looked at her dad pleadingly. "Well, stop it, will you? I'm nervous enough about this."

"Why? Is he that awful?"

"No, he's great. He's smart, and funny, and ―"

"Winningly naïve?"

April squeezed her eyes shut and balled up her fists, obviously counting to ten before speaking. "I swear," she finally ground out, "I'm going to kill Rory for digging up that clipping and showing it to all of you."

"Well, then you shouldn't date guys your sister went to school with. Especially not when said sister can search through newspaper databases faster than Lorelai can suck down a pot of coffee. Or maybe you shouldn't date guys that once sang about magic beans on Broadway." Luke stopped his suggestions and looked self-righteous. "Maybe you shouldn't date at all, how about that?"

"Dad," April sighed. "I'm 26. I think it's about time you got over your aversion to my dating."

"Yeah, yeah." Luke added his own sigh to hers. "It's this Wednesday?"

April nodded vigorously, gracefully folding her hands in front of her. It was a gesture she made often, and every time she did it Luke was reminded of his mother. The memory was always accompanied with a ping of regret, knowing how much she would have loved this granddaughter.

"Lorelai says you'll be there," April told him then, playing her trump card.

"Well, if that's what Lorelai says, I'm sure we will be," Luke said softly. He opened his arms and April stepped into them for a hug.

"Eww, sawdust!" she protested, trying to step back away.

"Not yet," Luke told her, not letting go. "You interrupted me before the sawdust part."

"OK then." April hugged him back and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "You _will_ like Brad," she predicted.

"You didn't at first," Luke pointed out, releasing her from his grasp.

April smiled secretively, pink blushing over her cheeks. "I do now."

April taught honors biology at a Connecticut middle school. Brad Langford was the principal, and in keeping with his strict Chilton upbringing, he believed in following all of the rules all of the time. At the start of each school year April fell in love with her clever students and she passionately believed in doing what was the very best for them ― rules or no rules. During the first two years of her employment she and Brad butted heads in continual bureaucratic frustration. Last year they had reached some sort of mutually reluctant friendship and understanding, and this year, unexpected romance had bloomed.

"We'll be there," Luke promised. "And I won't mention the magic beans."

"Thank you," April said with feeling. She started to head for the door. "Mom says she's counting on whatever you and Lorelai can report about him until she gets here at Thanksgiving to check him out for herself."

"Yeah, well, I'll let Lorelai handle that," Luke muttered. "Drive safe. Call when you get there," he added automatically.

"Dad," April said with mild annoyance. "26, remember?"

Luke waved an arm at her and turned back to his woodworking demands.

The earplugs went back in. The planer roared to life again. The sunlight hit the board at a different angle, exposing a nail hole Luke wasn't sure he'd seen before. He took the board over to a workbench, found a pair of needlenose pliers and started to explore the hole. Sending a board with a nail in it through the planer would be a very bad thing indeed.

The pliers hit metal and Luke patiently began to work the nail out. He just about had it exposed when another unseen hand knocked against his back. For the second time Luke nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Rick!" he growled out, turning to see his son standing behind him. He stomped over and turned off the piece of machinery. "Did your sister tell you to come in here and do that?"

Rick backed away, holding up his hands in surrender. "Sorry, Dad, I just wanted to ask if I can go play ball with Davey and the guys."

"What's your mom say?"

"I can't find Mom, that's why I'm asking you."

Luke sighed deeply. He hated negotiating these punishment things. Lorelai was so much better at it. And the kids never seemed to hold it against her, either.

"Did you finish washing the car?"

Rick nodded earnestly. "I even vacuumed out the backseat. I found a dime from the year I was born. I think I unearthed Cheerios from when Sam was a baby. Oh wait ― that may mean just last week in Sam's case."

Luke groaned inwardly. There was no doubt where Rick's mouth came from. Unfortunately those quick, meant-to-be-funny words often got him into trouble.

"Rick," Luke said warningly. He turned on the 'dad glare.'

"Sorry," Rick said immediately. He looked down and shuffled his shoes against the floor.

"Did you wash up Paul Anka too?" Luke asked, deciding to let the jab at Sam go.

"Yep." Rick nodded. "Man, he smelled _really_ bad. What'd he roll in, anyway?"

"Beats me. You know how that weirdo dog always finds the worst stuff to investigate."

"Yeah." Rick continued to nervously shuffle his feet, obviously having something more on his mind. "Hey, Dad? He's like really old, huh?"

"Paul Anka?" Luke added up the years in his head. "Yeah, he's getting up there, I guess."

Rick jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looked off to the side, swallowing hard. "He was like all shaking and stuff while I was washing him. I got towels and dried him off, but he still acted like he was all scared. When I got done he just wanted to keep leaning up against me."

Luke's gaze met the troubled blue eyes of his son. He knew this was one of those times when honesty was needed, even if it felt brutal.

"One day ― and truthfully, it's probably going to be one day soon ― Paul Anka won't be with us anymore. And when that day comes, you're going to be glad that you took the extra time with him today."

Rick blinked hard, and Luke felt for this boy of his that already thought he was too big for tears.

"We'll be sad. All of us will be sad, and we'll miss him, but he's had a really good life. Your mom rescued him and gave him a home, and I saved him once after he ate chocolate, so he's already beaten the odds twice. But you know what? Even after he's gone he'll still be a part of our family. Years and years from now, I bet you'll be telling Paul Anka stories to your kids."

Rick's eyes looked watery, but he had to laugh. "Yeah," he said, "I probably will. Especially the one about how he took the duck Sookie cooked all fancy on Grandma's birthday and buried it in the back yard."

Luke chuckled too. "Yeah, sometimes he's a good dog." Something Rick had said earlier came back to him. "Hey, what towels did you use to dry him off with?"

"The purple ones in the downstairs bathroom," Rick said innocently.

"The ones your grandmother gave us?" Luke asked sternly.

"Yep," Rick replied confidently.

Luke grinned. "Good boy." They all hated those towels.

"So can I go?"

Luke yanked on the bill of his ancient, faded blue baseball cap, trying to figure out the intricacies of childhood justice. "You washed the car. You washed Paul Anka. And?" he asked leadingly.

"And…" Rick shrugged. "That's all I was supposed to do."

"…And from this punishment you learned…"

"Oh!" Rick scowled. "Not to make fun of people's names," he said tiredly.

"It's not Collie's fault," Luke pointed out. "Jackson named her. When you tease her about it, you hurt both her and Jackson."

"I know, but Davey does it all the time!" Rick protested.

"What her brother does is for Jackson and Sookie to regulate. What you do, Mom and I get to decide. And making a little girl cry is not up for debate."

For the first time Rick looked remorseful. "Didn't mean to make her cry," he mumbled.

"I know you didn't. But you need to remember that your words can hurt. Just the way you can throw a baseball and hurt somebody, you can throw around your words hard enough to hurt, too. Don't ever forget that."

Rick nodded, looking more abashed than Luke had seen him look for quite some time.

"And the next time we're all together, you're spending a half hour playing with her."

"Dad! Come on!"

Luke held up his hands. "That's the deal. Take it or deal with further consequences."

"Fine," Rick mumbled, after a few moments of thought. "So does that mean I can go play a game with Davey and the guys?"

Deep inside, Luke groaned again. One more thing to decide.

His eldest son, Patrick Richard, was 11-1/2 years old. In a more perfect world he would have been closer to ten. However, an early 'homework' assignment from their counselor, Lynnie, had accidentally ignited a no-holds-barred battle between himself and Lorelai. Angry accusations flew and the ceiling reverberated from their shouts. Nothing was held back. Hurts from years earlier were brought out and used as weapons. Eventually there was nothing left to say and all they could do was stand and look at each other, empty and exhausted. Tears were shed ― not all of them Lorelai's. Forgiveness was genuinely offered and accepted on both sides. Hearts were soothed and began to really heal. Then practically in the next moment, those hearts began to smolder, and then they burst into an all-barriers-down conflagration. Rick was born nine months later.

"Those guys are all a lot older than you," Luke began, feeling his way.

"Yeah, I know." Rick shrugged. "But I like playin' with 'em. It's more fun than playin' with the Little League guys."

A growth spurt during the past six months had lengthened Rick's legs, making him even better at running bases. The muscles in his arm had gained mass, making his pitches stronger. His brain had matured and focused some, enabling his eyes to analyze exactly where the ball needed to be thrown. It wasn't long before Rick Danes' ability with a baseball was an accepted fact in Stars Hollow, so much so that even the high school boys were asking him to join them in pick-up games at the park.

Luke looked at his son now and saw not _exactly_ a carbon copy of himself at that age, but close enough that it sent a slight chill down his spine. He wondered if that was part of what Lorelai felt when she looked at Rory.

He gave up trying to analyze it all. "Be careful," he told Rick, giving him permission to go with those words. "Remember you're still nothin' but a little squirt to those guys. And be home in time for dinner."

Rick's face lit up and he no longer resembled his father quite so much. With the bright smile and shining eyes, there was no doubt that he was Lorelai's son. "Thanks, Dad!" he called out, already sprinting out of the door before Luke could possibly change his mind.

Once more Luke was alone in the workshop that years ago had served as a rehearsal studio for Hep Alien, and in some earlier era had actually been used as a garage. Lorelai had encouraged him to take over the space and make it his own after they'd reconciled and he'd started moving in his stuff. His initial plan had been to merely try and erase the stomach-churning pink-and-turquoise paint on the walls, but he soon realized that adding on a few more feet to the back of the structure would give him a pretty spacious workshop. All he needed to do was to insulate the walls, put on new doors, install two new windows…OK, so it _did_ evolve into a more intensive makeover than what he'd originally envisioned, but the end result was well worth it.

After that, Lorelai kept giving him gift cards to the big-box home improvement stores for every birthday and holiday, telling him to buy whatever big, fancy woodworking accessory that caught his eye. Soon people were stopping him in the diner, asking if he could fix this for them or make that. Word spread first through Stars Hollow and then expanded. Within five years he found that he was spending more time in the shop and less and less in the diner.

April and Rory put their heads together ― without his knowledge or permission, of course ― and created a website for him. Then the orders really poured in.

The diner was now being run by Lane and Zach. Luke had leased it out to them years ago. He still worked there occasionally, if they needed help. And every summer he took over for a couple of weeks, so they could take their boys and go on a well-earned family vacation. Or if they had a gig to play.

But it never failed to throw him for a loop to walk into 'Luke's' and sporadically encounter Mrs. Kim waiting tables. That lady was still scary.

Thinking that the third time was the charm, Luke plugged up his ears and turned on the planer again. He double-checked the gauge on the machine. He didn't want to take all of the signs of wear off the board because people loved that weathered-looking crap. His goal was to level it out some and make it easier to work with.

Luke passed the board through once and then studied it, pleased with the result. He turned off the machine and stepped backwards.

And instantly tripped over something huddled and alive behind him. Luke grabbed at the table saw, catching himself before he could land on the floor. The board dropped from his grasp, missing Son #2's head by only a few inches.

"Sam!" he bellowed.

"What?" Sam looked up from where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a leather-bound journal in his lap, looking perplexed.

"_What_?" Luke chided him, irritated. "I could have taken your head off, that's what." It suddenly occurred to him that he could have indeed hurt the boy, and he squatted down beside him, overcome with concern. "Are you OK?" he asked gruffly, feeling over the top of the curly brown head with his hand.

"Sure, I'm fine," Sam replied, still without an ounce of alarm.

"Sam," Luke tried to say, as patiently as possible, "you know you have to be careful in here. There are a lot of things in the shop that can hurt you. When I'm working, you need to make sure I know where you are."

Sam's forehead scrunched up. "But you told me not to sneak up on you and tap you on the shoulder when you're working. I thought I'd just sit here and wait until you got done."

_Well, what do you know_, Luke thought sardonically. _One member of the family who actually listens to me._

"I appreciate that. But from now on, try to step in front of me so I see you and know you're here, OK?"

"OK," Sam said agreeably.

"Did you want something?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded heartily and pulled a folded paper out from the front of the journal. He spread it open eagerly. "I wanted to show you this."

Sam was proof that God appreciated irony. They had named their first son Patrick, because they just liked the name, and chose Richard as his middle name, obviously as a tribute to his Grandfather Gilmore. (Even though Lorelai teased over and over that he had been named for Richard Castle, her favorite author, instead.) And Patrick, despite being named for either a literary giant or a business genius, was showing all signs of being a natural athlete and just a so-so scholar. On the other hand, Sam's full name was Theodore Samuel Danes, named after the legendary Red Sox player Ted Williams. At first Luke had resisted Lorelai's idea, but the more he thought about it, the more perfect it seemed. By naming his son after Ted Williams, his father's favorite player, he felt that he was honoring his dad twice. However, although Sam was named after a sports icon, his athletic ability was so far zilch. Sam's T-ball days had been spent drawing space aliens in the dirt instead of watching for the ball rolling past him.

Truthfully, Sam was something of a 9-year-old mystery to Luke. He loved the boy, of course, but he had no clue what went on in his mind. Sam was thoughtful and dreamy, and was often found motionless in the middle of the floor, lost completely to the imaginings taking place in his brain. Lorelai told him not to worry because Sam reminded her so much of Rory at that age. She got him the journal he constantly carried around, allowing him to scribble down his ideas and draw diagrams of star bases and Lego creations as the ideas came to him. Lulu Gleeson was his teacher this year and she assured them that his test scores were off the charts. She was already suggesting that they look into more creative schools for him, but Lorelai resisted that idea and Luke agreed wholeheartedly. Kids should be allowed to be kids, he felt.

While it was true that Sam was beloved by the whole town, just as his sister Rory had been, there was one more person from outside of Stars Hollow who loved him unconditionally. That was Anna. Practically since his birth they'd heard from her how much he took after April. Over and over she teasingly offered to take him home with her, should they ever tire of him.

"Over my dead body," Luke always muttered under his breath, waving good-bye while she pulled away from the house.

Now Luke stifled a sigh as Sam unfurled his paper. He was sure it would be a drawing of a constellation he'd never heard of, or pi written out to a hundred places. "What've you got here, buddy?" he tried to ask enthusiastically.

Sam got up on his knees and spread the drawing over the floor in front of them. "It's a desk," he said with the zeal he usually reserved for explaining the plot of his favorite anime show.

"A desk?" Luke looked at the drawing with more interest. "Tell me about it," he said, his eyes rapidly taking in the details.

"I thought it'd be great for any kid like me," Sam began, with complete assurance. "See? I know you can buy these things, these slider things, that make the board slide out for a keyboard? Well, I thought you could use it to build Lego stuff on instead of putting a keyboard on it. Maybe you could use Velcro to hold down the base plates on it, to build on. Then you'd have these little like cubby things at the top, so you could display what you made. And the drawers would be all special-built, to hold the different Lego pieces, so they wouldn't get all messed up. And maybe some of the drawers could be extra-deep, so you could put away stuff that was only half-finished, or something."

"Sam, this is a pretty good design," Luke told him. "Are you really interested in building this?"

"Do you mean it could be real?" Sam looked startled.

"Sure. We'd need to figure out some measurements, but yeah. We could build this for you."

"Wow." Sam looked again at his drawing. "So did I like invent something?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you did." Luke got up from the floor, not liking the effort it took to do so. "Can I keep your drawing? Let me do some calculations and write down the stuff we'd need to make it. You want to go with me to the lumber yard and pick out the wood for it?"

"That'd be cool," Sam confirmed with a nod. "Can we go today?"

"Probably not today. I've got some orders I need to complete first. But soon, OK?"

"OK." Sam picked up his journal and started on a zigzag path to the door, idly poking and studying things on the way.

"You want to stay here and help me with the sanding?" Luke offered, concerned that his spacey kid was at loose ends.

"No thanks." Sam hopped over the threshold. "I've got things to do."

Luke shook his head, wondering if the 'things' were real or imagined, but largely satisfied with the exchange he'd just had with his son.

For maybe 15 minutes, Luke worked in peace. He found brackets he wanted to use on the shelf. He traced out a pattern for some decorative scrollwork he planned to add along the back.

But then his concentration was destroyed when he sensed his wife sneaking up behind him. It wasn't because she was moving indelicately or bumping into things or anything like that. It had something more to do with how he used to feel in the diner, back in those years before they were together, when he somehow just knew when to look up at the door before the bells even jingled to announce her arrival. These past dozen years of their marriage had only enhanced his awareness of her. Her scent. Her warmth. The way her presence somehow altered the atmosphere around him.

He waited now, giving no clue that he was aware of her approach. In his head, he counted her steps. Then, at the last moment, he spun around and pounced.

Lorelai squealed as he captured her against him. He brought his mouth against hers, trying to entice her to open to him.

To his surprise she pushed back against his advances. "Watch it, Hot Stuff," she whispered to him, her hand pushing against his shoulder. "I've got an extra appendage attached to me here."

"You've got ― What?" Luke looked at her, confused and a tiny bit hurt. It wasn't often that Lorelai wasn't in favor of locking lips. He instantly began to wonder if he'd done something wrong. Maybe he shouldn't have let Rick go play ball after all.

Just then an excitedly shrill giggle assaulted his ears. Looking down, Luke saw a small tousled head and very animated blue eyes sparkling up at him. A toddler was wedged between Lorelai's legs.

"Paw-Paw!" the little boy shrieked, forcibly abandoning Lorelai in favor of Luke.

Luke grabbed Lorelai's elbow, making sure she had her balance, before he scooped up the newcomer.

"Ryan!" Luke swung the boy up in his arms, and Ryan immediately cuddled up against him, contentedly fingering the cozy flannel shirt Luke had on. "Did I know you were coming to see me?"

"No. It a su'pise," Ryan told him, still exploring his grandpa's shirt. He knew that sometimes there was a peppermint hidden in the pocket for him.

"Where's your mommy?" Luke asked him.

"She talkin' wid Ap'il," Ryan explained.

"April's still here?" Luke questioned Lorelai.

Lorelai nodded, leaning over to stroke her grandson's arm. "Rory pulled in just as April was leaving. They started talking and haven't stopped since. I went out and rescued the boy here from his car seat. Heaven knows how long it would have been before either of them thought about him."

"Right," Luke said drily. "Because this kid is so neglected and abused."

Lorelai had to grin at that. "He's a boy, Luke. You know how much ours hated being restrained in the car. And he had a long ride, coming to see us today."

"He slept the whole way," Luke guessed, stroking the soft cheek that still showed creases from being pressed up against the side of the restraining seat.

"Probably," Lorelai agreed. She swooped in to leave a loud smack of a kiss against Ryan's cheek.

He giggled and dove, trying to get away from her, inadvertently making it hard for his grandpa to hold him.

"Geoff didn't come?" Luke wondered, once he had Ryan's flailing body captured again.

Lorelai shook her head, still beaming at Ryan. "He stayed in the city. Something about making sure a ginormous wedding cake got delivered in one piece."

Rory had actually met her future husband at Yale, although neither had made much of an impression on the other. It wasn't until they both found themselves on a bus, following the presidential campaign trail, that they really got to know each other. At first they both thought their friendship was one of necessity and convenience. It was nice to know someone in the midst of a busload of strangers. It was nice to have someone who got your humor and references. It was nice to look up at the end of a long day and see a friendly face and a welcoming wave, beckoning towards a saved seat. Two against the world didn't take as much courage as going it alone did.

Eight months into the campaign, Geoff received heartbreaking news. His aunt had been killed in a car crash. He flew home to New York, thinking he'd be gone just long enough to attend the funeral. Instead he discovered that he'd been left his aunt's bakery. Although he knew that she'd probably left it to him as an investment, thinking that he'd sell it and bank the profits, he came to slowly realize that he couldn't do that. Abruptly, his life took off down another path.

After countless late-night phone calls discussing the pros and cons, Rory gave Geoff her stepfather's number, telling him that maybe Luke could help him make sense of the business.

Luke went to meet Geoff with his usual reluctance. It was a measure of his love for Rory that he agreed to drive into the city to look over the shop. It stopped being an obligation, however, when Geoff showed him around and told him about his aunt, his voice choking up as he told Luke how much he'd loved spending time in the shop with her.

"This was her place. Her dream," Geoff explained. His hand lovingly patted the display case, where the doughnuts should be. "I can't imagine it ever being anything else."

Of course Luke could understand that better than anyone. He became Geoff's tutor and mentor, and spent many happy hours in the fledgling bakery with him. Luckily Geoff had taken some business classes early in his Yale years and also seemed to have inherited his aunt's way with pastry.

Meanwhile, Rory had continued on with her journalism career. She continued writing on-line after the campaign ended and eventually accepted an offer from the Sacramento Bee. Logan swooped down on her the second she crossed the California border, or so it seemed to a skeptical Lorelai and Luke.

They hated having Rory so far away, but she seemed pleased with all aspects of her life, so that gave them consolation. She tried out one job after the other, finally coming to rest at a PBS station. Her life seemed settled until Jess announced he was getting married.

Without a word to even Lorelai, Rory left Logan and sunny California and flew into Philadelphia, focused on reclaiming the man she decided had really been the love of her life. It didn't take her long, however, to find that although she and Jess still had a special bond, it wasn't love. And she had to admit that his slightly Goth-chick fiancée, Rosamond, fitted him like a well-worn black leather jacket.

Despondent and confused, Rory drove a rental car the rest of the way to Stars Hollow. She stepped through the door of her old home and dropped her bags. "Well, I'm home," she announced crankily, stomping through the entryway.

Luke and Geoff were in the living room, analyzing the most recent sales figures from the bakery. Both heads shot up in surprise.

Stunned, Rory looked at Geoff.

His heart right there for all to see, Geoff lovingly gazed at Rory.

Rory straightened up and pushed her hair back behind her ears. "I…You…You're here," she said softly, the old sweetness spreading over her face.

Embarrassed, Luke watched Geoff swallow hard, finding himself an uncomfortable witness to the yearning being so openly displayed. "I'm here," Geoff allowed. He cleared his throat and sounded more confident. "I'm always going to be here."

"That's good," Rory murmured, her eyes never leaving Geoff's. "That's _really_ good."

Lorelai and the boys came running from the far reaches of the house, but they skidded to a stop when they reached the living room, sensing that something momentous was going on.

Unnoticed by either Rory or Geoff, Luke got up from the couch and went over to a bemused Lorelai. "I think we should go out to eat tonight," he suggested, motioning towards the silent, smitten pair still staring at each other. "I think they might need some time alone."

By the time they returned from Al's, everything was settled between the newly-created couple.

When Geoff left to go home to the city, Rory did too. Her now-impressive résumé and samples of her published works got her a position on the New York Times before Richard could even pull some strings to get her an interview there.

Later that summer the chuppah in the yard got to see another Gilmore wedding. The Dragonfly hosted another happily-ever-after reception. And Geoff was relieved to let Sookie take on the responsibility of making their wedding cake.

Now Ryan began to fidget in Luke's arms, and Luke put him down. "Everything's OK, right?" he asked Lorelai. "That troublemaking Vera's not giving Geoff problems again, is she?"

"I'm sure everything's fine," Lorelai reassured him. "I'll bet Rory will bring along your playmate next time."

Luke sent her a dark look, making her laugh.

"It's great that you like Geoff so much," she said. "I always worried that you'd chase any of Rory's suitors right out of town, so the fact that you'd already bonded with him instead is a miracle. I'm sure that April is hoping the same thing happens with Brad."

Luke gave a snort. "Yeah, don't think that's going to happen with me and Mr. Magic Beans."

"Be nice," she warned him.

"I'm always nice," he reminded her, trying once again to sneak in a kiss to prove it.

Lorelai shook her head at him, stepping back. "Kid, remember?" she said, pointing at Ryan.

"When did you turn into such a goody-goody?" he complained. "What happened to the crazed woman I used to have crawling all over me out here?"

"She became a grandmother," Lorelai replied promptly. "I don't want to take the chance of corrupting the morals of yet another generation."

"No one would believe that you're a grandmother," Luke told her. His eyes roamed over her, still liking what he saw.

His campaign to get her to eat healthier had largely been a success. There had been a lot of compromises, but the unexpected pregnancy had helped to jump-start the better diet. He'd also been able to lure her out of the house each night for a lengthy walk around town under the pretense that it was romantic. Which, he had to admit, it actually had been, even during the years when the walk included a toddler or two in a stroller.

Today Lorelai practically glowed with good health. The warmth from this Indian summer day had her dressed in capri-length jeans and an orange tank top. Her long curls were clipped up to the top of her head, and although she kept insisting there were ample silver strands beginning to run through them, Miss Clairol kept them hidden. Starbursts of wrinkles were starting to radiate from the corners of her eyes, but Luke claimed to not be able to see them, either

"Once again you're proving my point that you need glasses," Lorelai rebutted him, even though she grinned and struck a sexy pose, making Luke's eyebrows raise comically. "So, Grandpa, can you watch Ryan?"

"Well…" Luke was torn. As much as he loved having Ryan with him, he really did have a list of tasks he'd hoped to accomplish today in the shop.

"I tried taking him with me over to Babette and Morey's," Lorelai said. "That didn't work out at all. All he wanted to do was chase the cat, and that meant I had to try and pack up stuff one-handed, because my other hand was on him. Let me tell you, that is not an efficient packing method."

Babette and Morey were getting ready to move across town. Taylor, always the entrepreneur, had decided that the next big thing was to be found in aging baby boomers. He had built an assisted living facility on the outskirts of town, finally finding a use for one of the many parcels of land he'd acquired over the years. Babette and Morey were going to be his first tenants. His strict 'no pets' rule had only lasted about five minutes when it came face-to-face with Babette's iron will.

"Patty's the only one over there right now, and I need to get back to help," Lorelai added. "I think I'll take Sam with me, though. He'll be great at wrapping up the breakables. And Babette's already mourning that she won't automatically see him every day after they move."

"Sure," Luke decided. He put an old piece of carpet on the floor and Ryan promptly came running and plopped down on it. Then Luke lowered an old paint can half-full of miscellaneous washers, nails, and screws in front of him. He found a couple of empty baby food jars and set them on the floor, too.

"Sort them out for me, will you, buddy?"

Ryan squealed with delight and clapped his hands, instantly diving into the task. Now that he was past the stage of putting everything into his mouth, he loved this workshop chore as much as Sam and Rick did at his age.

"Thanks, Luke." The irresistible lure of her adorable grandson forced Lorelai to go over to Ryan one more time and smooth the top of his head. "Be good for Paw-Paw, OK?"

Ryan nodded absently, already lost in the glories of the pile of metal in front of him.

"You won't have to babysit too long," Lorelai said encouragingly as she prepared to leave the shop. "Rory will be in here soon. She wants to talk to you."

"Rory want to talk to _me_?" Instant prickles of alarm were running up and down the hairs on his arms.

Lorelai nodded. "That's why she came here today. She wants to talk to you."

"Why does she want to talk to me?" About a dozen terrible scenarios began to revolve about his head.

"Babe, don't sweat it, OK? Rory loves you. She just wants to see you. Not everything is a reason for you to worry."

Luke looked at his wife's cheery face and heard her soothing tone. If only he didn't know how many times she'd employed those same tactics when things had not been fine. But he started to breathe easier anyway.

"Hey," he said, reaching out and grabbing her arm as she started to walk away. He pulled her closer to him.

"I love you, you know," Luke said. It was something he tried to say to her at least once a day. No matter how many times he said it though, or how lightly he tried to get the words to come out, they always came out choked in emotion. They always sounded like he was pledging his life to her, all over again.

Lorelai stopped and nodded, her eyes shining back at him. "Yeah, I know," she said softly. No matter how many times she heard it, those words always made a few stray tears glisten in her eyes. She looked around now, making sure that Ryan was still happily distracted on the floor. She angled herself even closer to Luke and threw her arms around his neck, fitting up against him like a puzzle piece. "I love you too," she whispered, her cheek rubbing against his smoothly-shaven one. She kissed him then, and it refreshed his memory on why he had an 11-1/2 year old son.

"Not bad for an old guy," she complimented him, running a teasing finger along the collar of his t-shirt. "Do you think we could maybe continue this about 10:30 tonight?"

Luke hugged her tightly, placing a couple of kisses along the side of her face. "It's a date."

"If you're not asleep."

"If I'm asleep, you have my permission to wake me up."

Lorelai's eyebrows arched in amusement. "Any way I want?"

"Within reason." One more kiss and Luke reluctantly let her go. "Go pack up the huge stuff in the tiny house."

"Bye, Ryan!" Lorelai called out to the boy. "Bye, Hot Stuff," she said in a more meaningful way to Luke. She blew him a kiss and sauntered out the door, her long ponytail swinging across her shoulders.

Luke was not at all ashamed that he watched her every retreating step.

He didn't want to make a lot of noise or stir up dust while Ryan was in the shop, so Luke cleaned off his workbench instead, putting away materials that had gotten dumped out of their containers and left to sit in a pile. He pulled out the printouts on the next orders and ran through his stockpile, making sure that he had the materials he was going to need.

It wasn't long before he heard quiet footsteps and a soft voice. "Hi, Luke."

He turned to see the woman he still sometimes thought of as that clear-eyed and spunky sixteen-year-old. "Hi, Rory."

"OK if I come in?" Rory asked, polite and considerate as ever.

"Of course," Luke said, trying not to let her see how closely he was watching her.

"Mama, I helpin'," Ryan informed her, his tiny fists enthusiastically diving into the treasure before him, spreading the nuts and bolts far and wide.

Rory chuckled. "Yes, I can see that. I'm sure Paw-Paw appreciates the fine job you're doing." She walked over to a stool Luke kept in front of the workbench and rather cautiously hoisted herself up on it.

Luke was trying not to stare and obsess, but he could tell she wasn't moving like she should. He could see the purple marks under her eyes, the same smudges her mother got when she hadn't been sleeping well.

"Everything OK?" he tried to ask casually, but he was no actor. He was sure she could already tell he was worried.

"Everything's fine," Rory said, her head bobbing at him.

"Geoff's OK? The business?" His inquiries came out sharp and blunt.

Rory smiled. She didn't have Lorelai's smile, the one that glittered and charmed. Rory's mature smile was quieter and calmer, but when it broke over her face it made everyone around feel warm and loved.

"Everything's good, Luke. Everything's perfect, actually."

The smile took the edge off his worry. "Your mom said you wanted to talk to me."

"I do." The smile was still in plain view and her eyes looked at him fondly. "First you have to promise me that you won't get mad at Mom, because she already knows what I'm going to tell you."

The respite from the worry was brief indeed. "She knows what?" he asked sharply.

Rory bit at her bottom lip for a moment, trying not to laugh in pure happiness. "That you're going to be a grandpa again."

His breath rushed out of him as he took in this news, and then in the next second Luke hurried to her side. She jumped off the stool and met him in a bear hug of joy.

"Rory, that's…that's incredible news." Luke squeezed her as tightly as he dared. "Geoff's happy?"

"Geoff's over the moon," Rory said with a chuckle, patting Luke on the back.

Luke stepped back and motioned at Ryan. "What's he think about it?"

Rory chuckled again, climbing back onto the stool. "The whole concept of the stork coming to our house is a little nebulous right now, I think. We'll address it more when the time gets closer."

"And you're feeling all right?" He could still sense that he hadn't been told everything.

"I am." Rory took in a deep breath. "Well, considering, you know. Once my stomach settles down in the mornings. But yeah, I'm feeling pretty good. Besides, I'm almost through those first three months of yuck."

Now Luke knew there was more to the story than what he was being told. They had known Ryan was on the way almost before the stick changed color. He gave her a modified 'dad glare,' hoping that would be enough to force her to come clean.

Rory sighed, resigned. "The doctor didn't like some things she was seeing. I just knew in my heart that everything was OK, but I still had to take into consideration what she was telling me. I had to confide in somebody, and ― Well, you know, Luke, for me that means Mom. I begged her not to tell you because I knew you'd worry all the time about it, and I didn't want to see you like that. Mom agreed, but she didn't like keeping it from you. So don't be mad at her, please? I'm the one who forced the deception." Rory was still really good at turning on the puppy dog eyes, and she employed them now. "Plus, I'm a pregnant lady. Can't get mad at a pregnant lady, can you?"

"I suppose not," Luke said gruffly. He directed another stern look in her direction. "But you're telling me the truth now? Everything's OK? You're healthy? The baby's healthy?"

"We're fine. The things she'd been monitoring corrected themselves. Wonky readings or something." Rory shrugged and then slid off the stool, reaching into the pocket of the jumper she was wearing. "You want to see?" she offered, waving an amber-hued photo at him. A big grin was on her face.

Luke was amazed at the clarity of the image. It was apparent that ultrasound photography technology had leapt ahead even in the few years since Ryan was born. The sweet face of the new baby was right there for him to marvel at.

"Rory. He's just…I don't know what to say." Luke shook his head and cleared his throat, nearly overcome by the sight of this new grandchild.

"She."

"What?" Luke was still staring at the picture and wasn't sure if he'd heard correctly.

"She." Rory looked so pleased and smug. "We're finally adding another girl to the family. I'm so done with all these stinky boys."

Luke was stunned. "She's a girl?"

"She is indeed. Mom can once again bedazzle onesies to her heart's content."

After the birth of their two boys, they still had hoped to someday add in a baby sister, but it hadn't happened. They finally decided that they'd been blessed with a perfectly blended family of two girls and two boys. After Ryan came along, that nagging wish for another little girl had been locked away.

Luke got his arm around Rory and gave her another squeeze. "She's the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Well, _I_ think so!" Rory laughed. She let Luke keep possession of the picture while she settled back down on the stool. "So Mom says you've already got her named."

"I…What?" Once again Luke was at a loss. He stared at Rory in confusion.

"A name," Rory prompted him. "Mom says you've got a name all picked out and an epic story to explain where it came from." She rocked back and forth on the stool, getting comfortable. "Let's hear it."

It had been a very long time since Luke had any reason to remember the nightmare he'd once had. Thirteen years ago it had awakened him to how wrong and empty his life would be without Lorelai in it. But maybe the dream hadn't been truly forgotten after all. Not completely, anyway. It still hovered darkly in the recesses of his thoughts, making him humbly grateful for his daily blessing of a home. A family. Love. Because he knew how easily it could have all tipped in the other direction.

Through the open workshop window he could faintly hear Lorelai's boisterous laugh wafting in from next door, along with a few chords from Morey's piano. Paul Anka barked sharply, probably at the squirrel he chased multiple times a day.

Luke looked around the workshop. He saw Rory beaming at him, already appearing rounder and softer to him with the knowledge of the new baby girl coming. He glanced at Ryan, the grandson he never dreamed he'd have, contentedly lining up an army made of washers and bolts.

He cleared his throat and then took a deep breath, preparing for the excess of words he was going to be obliged to use to tell his tale.

"Lexie," Luke began, not really surprised at how good and right and perfect it felt to finally say it again. "Her name is going to be Lexie."


End file.
